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 Suriname and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cybotron to the electroclash 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord 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 chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bluetip,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eurythmics,
Mars,
The Young Rascals,
The Sound,
Bauhaus,
Television Personalities,
Bush Tetras,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bobby Byrd,
Gang Starr,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Litter,
Robert Görl,
Gabor Szabo,
Visage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marc Almond,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ludus,
Pulsallama,
Pussy Galore,
A Certain Ratio,
The Last Poets,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric Dolphy,
Mad Mike,
Isaac Hayes,
Liliput,
Bill Near,
Japan,
Yaz,
Scientists,
Funkadelic,
Harmonia,
Unwound,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Martian,
Cybotron,
The Five Americans,
Jeru the Damaja,
La Düsseldorf,
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scratch Acid,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eli Mardock,
Vainqueur,
Arab on Radar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cecil Taylor,
Hardrive,
The Offenders,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.