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 Rwanda and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Glenn Branca 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lyres record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Frankie Knuckles,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Procol Harum,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
Connie Case,
Arcadia,
Flash Fearless,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Echospace,
Moebius,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
The Slits,
Harpers Bizarre,
Reuben Wilson,
Blossom Toes,
Lungfish,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Easy Going,
Gichy Dan,
Funkadelic,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yaz,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
OOIOO,
Groovy Waters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Alphaville,
Dawn Penn,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Wells,
Chris Corsano,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Sherman,
The Pretty Things,
Ponytail,
Subhumans,
Kaleidoscope,
Tres Demented,
Hoover,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
Blake Baxter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Associates,
Blancmange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kayak,
Wire,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
Skarface,
Supertramp,
Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.