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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Skarface to the jazz 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
Barbara Tucker,
Moebius,
The Slackers,
Panda Bear,
Gang Gang Dance,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jacques Brel,
Skriet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Schoolly D,
Rekid,
JFA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Flag,
Supertramp,
Quadrant,
Brothers Johnson,
Scratch Acid,
Grandmaster Flash,
Malaria!,
T. Rex,
Sarah Menescal,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Music Machine,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tom Boy,
Fat Boys,
X-101,
Franke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
The Divine Comedy,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Das Ding,
The Red Krayola,
Clear Light,
Sun City Girls,
The Stooges,
Maurizio,
MC5,
Duran Duran,
Albert Ayler,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sex Pistols,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
These Immortal Souls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Fortunes,
Bang On A Can,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camberwell Now,
Cheater Slicks,
Country Teasers,
Quantec,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.