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 Andorra and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Cramps to the rock 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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar and an organ 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 rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Monks,
Henry Cow,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
Icehouse,
Malaria!,
The Selecter,
Crash Course in Science,
Country Teasers,
Man Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris Corsano,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Move,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
cv313,
Bobby Sherman,
Depeche Mode,
Saccharine Trust,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pet Shop Boys,
Basic Channel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Niagra,
Erasure,
Procol Harum,
Smog,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Pus,
Maleditus Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Knickerbockers,
Sandy B,
The New Christs,
Todd Rundgren,
Schoolly D,
The Slackers,
China Crisis,
The Raincoats,
Flash Fearless,
Steve Hackett,
David McCallum,
Duran Duran,
DJ Style,
Young Marble Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Juan Atkins,
Can,
Pagans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aaron Thompson,
New Age Steppers,
The American Breed,
Kurtis Blow,
La Düsseldorf,
The Misunderstood,
Kas Product,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.