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 Lithuania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Stiv Bators to the rap 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Adolescents,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
The Gories,
John Holt,
Deadbeat,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
The Smoke,
Little Man,
MC5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rites of Spring,
Radiohead,
Bauhaus,
Eurythmics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Index,
Loose Ends,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chrome,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
E-Dancer,
Underground Resistance,
Eric Dolphy,
Terry Callier,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Matthew Bourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Modern Lovers,
China Crisis,
Freddie Wadling,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dirtbombs,
Liliput,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
Thompson Twins,
Faust,
Dave Gahan,
Graham Central Station,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
Boredoms,
X-Ray Spex,
Lower 48,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
Marc Almond,
The Slits,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.