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 Senegal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Taipei.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Slits to the funk 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Matthew Halsall,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bobby Womack,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hoover,
Bang On A Can,
Neil Young,
Stetsasonic,
Deepchord,
Metal Thangz,
Boz Scaggs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
Crooked Eye,
Buzzcocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Porter Ricks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Television,
The Neon Judgement,
Severed Heads,
OOIOO,
This Heat,
Donald Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
Graham Central Station,
Joey Negro,
Albert Ayler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantaleimon,
Swell Maps,
Lakeside,
AZ,
One Last Wish,
Magma,
June of 44,
The Gap Band,
The Tremeloes,
Zero Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Invisible,
The Names,
DNA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roxy Music,
Qualms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker,
Das Ding,
Crash Course in Science,
Faust,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Monks,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pierre Henry,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.