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 Dominica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Pagans,
Wolf Eyes,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
DNA,
Reuben Wilson,
Popol Vuh,
Rotary Connection,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Wire,
Bootsy Collins,
The Dirtbombs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scan 7,
Brand Nubian,
Livin' Joy,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James White and The Blacks,
Ossler,
Average White Band,
The Mojo Men,
Jacob Miller,
Wasted Youth,
John Lydon,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
Adolescents,
David Bowie,
Trumans Water,
Khruangbin,
Donny Hathaway,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
David McCallum,
Scrapy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yaz,
Vladislav Delay,
The Doors,
The Last Poets,
Spandau Ballet,
Nick Fraelich,
The Smoke,
The Gun Club,
Ultra Naté,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Almond,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Franke,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mars,
Funkadelic,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gories,
Moby Grape,
Essential Logic,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.