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 Belarus and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Au Pairs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a synthesizer 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 synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Second Layer,
Oneida,
Fugazi,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Connie Case,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cameo,
Electric Prunes,
Young Marble Giants,
a-ha,
Gang Green,
Clear Light,
The Walker Brothers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
Lee Hazlewood,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Man Eating Sloth,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ronan,
The Zeros,
The Fugs,
Hoover,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Youth Brigade,
MC5,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skarface,
One Last Wish,
X-102,
The Buckinghams,
The Martian,
Scott Walker,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Harry Pussy,
The Happenings,
Fat Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The American Breed,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Tremeloes,
The Saints,
Unrelated Segments,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Yusef Lateef,
The Pretty Things,
Flipper,
Eric Copeland,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.