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 Azerbaijan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
48th St. Collective,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
DJ Sneak,
MDC,
Babytalk,
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
Qualms,
Guru Guru,
UT,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blues Magoos,
Agent Orange,
Sällskapet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Prince Buster,
Godley & Creme,
Yaz,
Tim Buckley,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Invisible,
Symarip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sound,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Sherman,
The Victims,
Blossom Toes,
The Birthday Party,
The Dead C,
Dennis Brown,
Technova,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
Lou Reed,
Marmalade,
Y Pants,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sugar Minott,
Siglo XX,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
Procol Harum,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eric Dolphy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marine Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Boredoms,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Lynne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Green,
Hot Snakes,
Josef K,
Roxette,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.