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 Nepal and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
The Invisible,
Nas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Circle Jerks,
The Martian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Doors,
Faraquet,
Scrapy,
The Neon Judgement,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
Sällskapet,
Lou Christie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eddi Front,
Aural Exciters,
Oneida,
Big Daddy Kane,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
Magma,
The Human League,
D'Angelo,
Donny Hathaway,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantaleimon,
The Dirtbombs,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
Morten Harket,
Lightning Bolt,
Schoolly D,
Neu!,
Alphaville,
ABBA,
Ludus,
June Days,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Visage,
The Golliwogs,
Andrew Hill,
Technova,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultravox,
Byron Stingily,
Flipper,
Maleditus Sound,
Arab on Radar,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Foxx,
DJ Style,
Rites of Spring,
Arcadia,
the Association,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tommy Roe,
Joe Smooth,
Deakin,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.