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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Searchers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Stooges,
Fluxion,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brand Nubian,
The Black Dice,
Gastr Del Sol,
Throbbing Gristle,
New York Dolls,
Harmonia,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fad Gadget,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rites of Spring,
Unrelated Segments,
Circle Jerks,
Inner City,
Nirvana,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cecil Taylor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harry Pussy,
Kerri Chandler,
Smog,
Funkadelic,
Chris Corsano,
Schoolly D,
Deakin,
Pussy Galore,
Mark Hollis,
Organ,
Crime,
Joey Negro,
X-Ray Spex,
Dead Boys,
Deepchord,
OOIOO,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Don Cherry,
Warren Ellis,
Guru Guru,
the Sonics,
The Raincoats,
10cc,
Infiniti,
Nick Fraelich,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Adolescents,
Pantaleimon,
The Skatalites,
Anakelly,
Maleditus Sound,
Simply Red,
Fear,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
Magazine,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.