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 Lithuania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Music Machine to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Depeche Mode,
Kurtis Blow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soft Machine,
New Age Steppers,
Absolute Body Control,
Lalann,
Icehouse,
Lyres,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slackers,
Swans,
Banda Bassotti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Moby Grape,
The Names,
DJ Style,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Urselle,
Jawbox,
Harmonia,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joyce Sims,
Sun City Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Siglo XX,
Average White Band,
Simply Red,
Pet Shop Boys,
Johnny Osbourne,
Juan Atkins,
DJ Sneak,
Vladislav Delay,
Marmalade,
Ituana,
Boredoms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Barracudas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Warsaw,
Ice-T,
Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
The Fuzztones,
Hasil Adkins,
The Litter,
Swell Maps,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
Cluster,
The Young Rascals,
Alton Ellis,
Fluxion,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.