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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord 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 sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
China Crisis,
Echospace,
Dark Day,
Intrusion,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Mission of Burma,
Reuben Wilson,
U.S. Maple,
Jacques Brel,
David Bowie,
Kenny Larkin,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chris Corsano,
R.M.O.,
Oneida,
John Cale,
Brand Nubian,
Duran Duran,
the Human League,
The Cure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crime,
Faust,
E-Dancer,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smoke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Star Department,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Black Dice,
Lightning Bolt,
Country Teasers,
Siglo XX,
Dual Sessions,
Soulsonic Force,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alice Coltrane,
Nas,
Clear Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Leaves,
Circle Jerks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skriet,
Marc Almond,
Archie Shepp,
B.T. Express,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.