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 Portugal and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Nirvana to the crunk 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes 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?
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
Heaven 17,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Flipper,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Grass Roots,
The Trojans,
The Buckinghams,
Joy Division,
Bob Dylan,
Tubeway Army,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Curtis Mayfield,
New York Dolls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mummies,
Peter & Gordon,
The Black Dice,
Q65,
Banda Bassotti,
Drexciya,
Fear,
Bluetip,
Cybotron,
Chris Corsano,
Rekid,
Echospace,
Slick Rick,
Maurizio,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Liliput,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
Robert Görl,
ABBA,
Q and Not U,
The Doors,
The Five Americans,
Marine Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Kenny Larkin,
Gong,
The Shadows of Knight,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Beau Brummels,
Harmonia,
The Kinks,
Matthew Bourne,
Nils Olav,
Scan 7,
Ultimate Spinach,
D'Angelo,
The New Christs,
The Wake,
Aural Exciters,
K-Klass,
Newcleus,
The Smiths,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.