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 South Sudan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drive Like Jehu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a mellotron 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 organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
the Slits,
Mandrill,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roxette,
Marine Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rufus Thomas,
Section 25,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Golliwogs,
China Crisis,
Radiohead,
OOIOO,
The Neon Judgement,
Stiv Bators,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Association,
UT,
Piero Umiliani,
Liliput,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
E-Dancer,
Rod Modell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tommy Roe,
Spandau Ballet,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Arab on Radar,
Colin Newman,
The Young Rascals,
The Index,
June of 44,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Niagra,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
Clear Light,
Ohio Players,
Wasted Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Television,
Rites of Spring,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville,
Magma,
Maleditus Sound,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.