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 Bhutan and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marcia Griffiths to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 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?
Ronnie Foster,
Yazoo,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sixth Finger,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Make Up,
The Buckinghams,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
DJ Sneak,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The United States of America,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
Scion,
Morten Harket,
Cymande,
Slave,
Lyres,
June Days,
Minny Pops,
Clear Light,
Barry Ungar,
Marvin Gaye,
T. Rex,
Amon Düül II,
Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angry Samoans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Don Cherry,
Urselle,
Lou Christie,
Hoover,
Pantaleimon,
Zero Boys,
Au Pairs,
Nico,
Sugar Minott,
Yellowson,
Can,
Hardrive,
Soul II Soul,
Lakeside,
Roxette,
Avey Tare,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Todd Terry,
Harmonia,
Barbara Tucker,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alton Ellis,
Bluetip,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
Interpol,
Malaria!,
Roger Hodgson,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.