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 Haiti and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Easy Going to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator 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 synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Lungfish,
Fad Gadget,
John Lydon,
Todd Rundgren,
Zero Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Human League,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Parry Music,
Shoche,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Remains,
Derrick May,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Copeland,
Subhumans,
The Doobie Brothers,
JFA,
Hot Snakes,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Red Krayola,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tears for Fears,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dave Gahan,
The Saints,
Ken Boothe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Delta 5,
Todd Terry,
Marine Girls,
Curtis Mayfield,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Fraelich,
EPMD,
Inner City,
Cymande,
Judy Mowatt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Invisible,
Charles Mingus,
Maurizio,
Oneida,
Sexual Harrassment,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed,
Moby Grape,
The Angels of Light,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Qualms,
Dennis Brown,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.