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 St Lucia and from Lagos.
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 Spokane and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Christie to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Neon Judgement,
Black Pus,
Goldenarms,
Average White Band,
Delta 5,
cv313,
Yellowson,
Fatback Band,
Whodini,
Gichy Dan,
Pulsallama,
Make Up,
Joe Smooth,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Association,
The Names,
Amon Düül II,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The American Breed,
The Searchers,
Shuggie Otis,
Symarip,
Trumans Water,
Brass Construction,
Avey Tare,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Moody Blues,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doors,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jacques Brel,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
The Cramps,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lungfish,
Ultra Naté,
Grey Daturas,
Agent Orange,
Graham Central Station,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Gregory Isaacs,
Judy Mowatt,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gang of Four,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dirtbombs,
These Immortal Souls,
Man Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Livin' Joy,
Essential Logic,
David McCallum,
Anakelly,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Tommy Roe,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.