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 Armenia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar 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 oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The Knickerbockers,
Shuggie Otis,
The Moleskins,
Yazoo,
The Tremeloes,
Ludus,
a-ha,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
Delta 5,
Lindisfarne,
Moss Icon,
Audionom,
Janne Schatter,
The Dirtbombs,
In Retrospect,
Hashim,
Deepchord,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sound Behaviour,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kenny Larkin,
Marvin Gaye,
Echospace,
The Sonics,
The Golliwogs,
Eli Mardock,
The Electric Prunes,
Yusef Lateef,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harmonia,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
Carl Craig,
The American Breed,
Harry Pussy,
Clear Light,
Pulsallama,
Steve Hackett,
The Gladiators,
Spandau Ballet,
Colin Newman,
Talk Talk,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dead Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
Jacob Miller,
The Black Dice,
Brothers Johnson,
China Crisis,
Big Daddy Kane,
AZ,
Prince Buster,
The Offenders,
Television,
Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth, Joe Smooth.
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.