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 East Timor and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin 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 clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wolf Eyes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
Bob Dylan,
Jerry's Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dawn Penn,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Morten Harket,
Shuggie Otis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Oblivians,
Deadbeat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Amazonics,
Scion,
Grey Daturas,
Icehouse,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warsaw,
Joy Division,
Iggy Pop,
Joyce Sims,
Sight & Sound,
Black Moon,
Tres Demented,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Toasters,
Mantronix,
Eli Mardock,
Bad Manners,
Crash Course in Science,
Rufus Thomas,
X-Ray Spex,
AZ,
Ken Boothe,
Television,
Bill Near,
Heaven 17,
Althea and Donna,
Rod Modell,
Harry Pussy,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
Rapeman,
ABBA,
Ronnie Foster,
Flash Fearless,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Skatalites,
Newcleus,
Little Man,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.