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 Bolivia and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 AZ to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Starr,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Five Americans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Faraquet,
Skriet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Toasters,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Flash Fearless,
Neu!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Cale,
Can,
Schoolly D,
Lebanon Hanover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Golliwogs,
The Fuzztones,
John Holt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
X-101,
Television Personalities,
Tears for Fears,
the Fania All-Stars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wally Richardson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
Shoche,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lyres,
Absolute Body Control,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul II Soul,
Sister Nancy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sam Rivers,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grey Daturas,
Banda Bassotti,
Neil Young,
The Kinks,
Lakeside,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.