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 Kosovo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Suicide to the rap 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Lee Hazlewood,
Max Romeo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
Surgeon,
Pere Ubu,
Byron Stingily,
The Angels of Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Blake Baxter,
Colin Newman,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Smog,
Sun Ra,
Monolake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Excepter,
MC5,
X-Ray Spex,
Blossom Toes,
The Last Poets,
Suburban Knight,
June Days,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nils Olav,
Guru Guru,
Derrick May,
Qualms,
Zapp,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Organ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ohio Players,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quantec,
The Pop Group,
Alice Coltrane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Knickerbockers,
Soft Cell,
Ronan,
The Walker Brothers,
Lindisfarne,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
The Pretty Things,
The Smoke,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed,
Grauzone,
Bobby Womack,
Gastr Del Sol,
L. Decosne,
Los Fastidios,
The Monochrome Set,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.