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 Laos and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Organ,
X-102,
Monks,
Ten City,
Alison Limerick,
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Tim Buckley,
Michelle Simonal,
Josef K,
Matthew Bourne,
The Five Americans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
June Days,
Gang of Four,
Yusef Lateef,
New York Dolls,
Ronan,
X-101,
The J.B.'s,
Magazine,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche,
The Gap Band,
Black Moon,
Quando Quango,
The Mummies,
Young Marble Giants,
New Age Steppers,
The Slits,
Yaz,
Albert Ayler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Evens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Roy Ayers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Circle Jerks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Groovy Waters,
James White and The Blacks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Martian,
Hardrive,
Yellowson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Porter Ricks,
The Victims,
The Zeros,
Q and Not U,
Accadde A,
Excepter,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.