Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Albania and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Cheater Slicks to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
R.M.O.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June Days,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tim Buckley,
John Holt,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
The United States of America,
Roger Hodgson,
T.S.O.L.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bill Near,
Smog,
Howard Jones,
Eric Copeland,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deepchord,
Jeff Mills,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
Crime,
Bluetip,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
Brand Nubian,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-102,
The Buckinghams,
Connie Case,
The Dirtbombs,
Q and Not U,
the Swans,
Lou Reed,
Erykah Badu,
Cal Tjader,
Electric Prunes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flipper,
Camouflage,
Underground Resistance,
Spandau Ballet,
Little Man,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Blackbyrds,
Joe Smooth,
New Order,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ornette Coleman,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.