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 Iraq and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 chamberlin 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 The Dead C 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Nirvana,
Franke,
New Order,
K-Klass,
Alice Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
Excepter,
The Smoke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minnie Riperton,
Whodini,
Bobby Womack,
the Swans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Icehouse,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
China Crisis,
Siglo XX,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Clarke,
Rites of Spring,
Index,
Lower 48,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Halsall,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Neil Young,
The Human League,
Echospace,
Liliput,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul II Soul,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Japan,
Lou Christie,
Janne Schatter,
June of 44,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Starr,
Lucky Dragons,
Graham Central Station,
Charles Mingus,
Bob Dylan,
Bill Wells,
Massinfluence,
Moss Icon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Marmalade,
Kerri Chandler,
Unrelated Segments,
Scientists,
Subhumans,
The Neon Judgement,
Magma,
John Lydon,
The Gun Club,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skaos,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.