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 Togo and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Residents to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare 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 snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Blake Baxter,
Tubeway Army,
Arthur Verocai,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
Intrusion,
The Beau Brummels,
Hardrive,
Liliput,
Rotary Connection,
The Black Dice,
Mr. Review,
Arcadia,
DJ Sneak,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
One Last Wish,
Marmalade,
The Wake,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Susan Cadogan,
Matthew Bourne,
Erykah Badu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
Reagan Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Basic Channel,
Lou Christie,
Funky Four + One,
The New Christs,
Cymande,
Country Teasers,
Rod Modell,
Rufus Thomas,
Tres Demented,
Banda Bassotti,
Infiniti,
Pantaleimon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
Soft Cell,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barclay James Harvest,
Terrestrial Tones,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
Lyres,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ice-T,
Byron Stingily,
Minutemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Index,
John Foxx,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.