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 Guatemala and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Cramps to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Scrapy,
Wire,
The J.B.'s,
Soft Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Smiths,
Tomorrow,
The Pretty Things,
Organ,
New Age Steppers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fatback Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Buzzcocks,
Sun City Girls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang Green,
Subhumans,
Underground Resistance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Excepter,
Interpol,
Rod Modell,
Soul II Soul,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alison Limerick,
Althea and Donna,
Mo-Dettes,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fuzztones,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Avey Tare,
Swell Maps,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Osbourne,
T. Rex,
The Real Kids,
Lower 48,
Smog,
Television Personalities,
Nico,
Black Sheep,
Hoover,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Reed,
Funkadelic,
The Divine Comedy,
The Durutti Column,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lightning Bolt,
Letta Mbulu,
World's Most,
Sixth Finger,
Sandy B,
Matthew Halsall,
Tropical Tobacco,
June of 44,
Ken Boothe,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.