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 Sierra Leone and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
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 Mandrill to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
The Move,
Stereo Dub,
Ossler,
David Bowie,
The Neon Judgement,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Television Personalities,
the Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Sarah Menescal,
John Foxx,
The Buckinghams,
The Beau Brummels,
X-102,
Black Bananas,
Bronski Beat,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
Matthew Bourne,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tubeway Army,
Soft Machine,
Blancmange,
Rakim,
The Five Americans,
These Immortal Souls,
Brick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Technova,
Marshall Jefferson,
Urselle,
The Walker Brothers,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Trumans Water,
Bluetip,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Stooges,
Scion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
In Retrospect,
8 Eyed Spy,
Swans,
Robert Hood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Babytalk,
Heaven 17,
Junior Murvin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sound,
Freddie Wadling,
The Monks,
Suburban Knight,
Juan Atkins,
X-Ray Spex,
The Seeds,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.