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 Hungary and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
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 Roy Ayers to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
the Swans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Neu!,
The Selecter,
Slave,
Simply Red,
The Dave Clark Five,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Das Ding,
Ten City,
LL Cool J,
Rakim,
Mark Hollis,
The Fire Engines,
Wolf Eyes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Moby Grape,
the Normal,
New York Dolls,
Aloha Tigers,
Crime,
Rapeman,
Fela Kuti,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bronski Beat,
Al Stewart,
Junior Murvin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Spandau Ballet,
Joe Finger,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minor Threat,
Audionom,
Morten Harket,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boredoms,
D'Angelo,
Sparks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
Eric Dolphy,
Joy Division,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radiohead,
Robert Görl,
UT,
Rufus Thomas,
Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Adolescents,
Ultravox,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Parrish,
June Days,
Andrew Hill,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.