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 Nepal and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a theremin 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 guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Lou Reed,
the Normal,
Silicon Teens,
Marmalade,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young,
MDC,
The Litter,
In Retrospect,
Barry Ungar,
Bobby Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan,
R.M.O.,
ABBA,
Stetsasonic,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
Derrick May,
The Index,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Unrelated Segments,
One Last Wish,
Fear,
Ludus,
Terry Callier,
D'Angelo,
The Victims,
Scientists,
Excepter,
Skarface,
the Sonics,
Roxy Music,
Urselle,
The Busters,
David Bowie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yazoo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
The Cramps,
Public Enemy,
Ronnie Foster,
Scrapy,
China Crisis,
Freddie Wadling,
The Leaves,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.