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 Beijing.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kurtis Blow to the grunge 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster 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 synthesizer and a snare 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Mission of Burma,
Ohio Players,
Grey Daturas,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
Barry Ungar,
The Fortunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jawbox,
Lalann,
Neil Young,
Hashim,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang of Four,
Charles Mingus,
Rosa Yemen,
The Offenders,
Heaven 17,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aloha Tigers,
The Techniques,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Soft Machine,
Sound Behaviour,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Beau Brummels,
Don Cherry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soulsonic Force,
The Blackbyrds,
Scion,
The Cowsills,
Thompson Twins,
The Last Poets,
The Divine Comedy,
Eden Ahbez,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Michelle Simonal,
Brothers Johnson,
Supertramp,
Lou Reed,
Rufus Thomas,
Ossler,
Spoonie Gee,
Angry Samoans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.