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 Vietnam and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 R.M.O. to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Pop Group,
James White and The Blacks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rufus Thomas,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül II,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Machine,
Henry Cow,
The Invisible,
Agitation Free,
X-101,
Black Flag,
Banda Bassotti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arcadia,
Lakeside,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
Essential Logic,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sixth Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pantaleimon,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
the Human League,
The Modern Lovers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vladislav Delay,
Newcleus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Audionom,
Bob Dylan,
The Moleskins,
F. McDonald,
L. Decosne,
The Fire Engines,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Funkadelic,
Brick,
Matthew Bourne,
Cheater Slicks,
The Seeds,
The Mojo Men,
Soul II Soul,
The Searchers,
Junior Murvin,
X-Ray Spex,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.