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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe 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 chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Neon Judgement,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Seeds,
Glenn Branca,
AZ,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suicide,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Livin' Joy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rakim,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
The Cowsills,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Franke,
The Mummies,
Gang Green,
Gang of Four,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Max Romeo,
Carl Craig,
Kool Moe Dee,
Smog,
Lindisfarne,
Sex Pistols,
The Searchers,
Dark Day,
Scrapy,
Duran Duran,
Ice-T,
Ornette Coleman,
Crash Course in Science,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultimate Spinach,
David McCallum,
Clear Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantytec,
The Detroit Cobras,
China Crisis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Morten Harket,
Tears for Fears,
John Coltrane,
The Black Dice,
Metal Thangz,
The Sound,
Dave Gahan,
The Motions,
Robert Wyatt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
a-ha,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.