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 Korea North and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Gang Gang Dance to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Erasure,
The Mojo Men,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
Negative Approach,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
Metal Thangz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
the Soft Cell,
Royal Trux,
The Grass Roots,
In Retrospect,
Cameo,
Young Marble Giants,
Panda Bear,
The Angels of Light,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Fraelich,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
Tubeway Army,
Steve Hackett,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Marmalade,
K-Klass,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smoke,
The Invisible,
New York Dolls,
Yaz,
T.S.O.L.,
Swell Maps,
The Cramps,
Stetsasonic,
Minor Threat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gichy Dan,
Model 500,
The Zeros,
Crooked Eye,
Nils Olav,
Hashim,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bronski Beat,
Camouflage,
KRS-One,
The Standells,
The Residents,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.