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 Brazil and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Victims to the grunge 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
Fat Boys,
Prince Buster,
DNA,
Lalo Schifrin,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Sherman,
Mr. Review,
Wolf Eyes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skarface,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Litter,
Dennis Brown,
Andrew Hill,
Saccharine Trust,
The Residents,
Patti Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dead C,
The Martian,
Pulsallama,
New York Dolls,
Eli Mardock,
Eve St. Jones,
Wasted Youth,
Todd Rundgren,
L. Decosne,
Minny Pops,
Swell Maps,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Zeros,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Evens,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lightning Bolt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lindisfarne,
Average White Band,
Dead Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
X-101,
the Human League,
The Sonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gories,
Boredoms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Barracudas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül II,
Talk Talk,
CMW,
Crooked Eye,
Morten Harket,
Agitation Free,
Goldenarms,
the Normal,
T. Rex,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.