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 Kenya and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 the Fania All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
the Slits,
Wings,
Mars,
Iggy Pop,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt,
Inner City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Theoretical Girls,
Trumans Water,
Kenny Larkin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
10cc,
Sixth Finger,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mantronix,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
The Angels of Light,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Victims,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
Mary Jane Girls,
The United States of America,
Fear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Qualms,
Public Enemy,
Roxy Music,
Hot Snakes,
ABC,
The Offenders,
Big Daddy Kane,
Unrelated Segments,
Skaos,
The Sound,
Skriet,
Echospace,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Evens,
Oneida,
Shuggie Otis,
Bang On A Can,
Model 500,
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
Reuben Wilson,
Boz Scaggs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scott Walker,
Erasure,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.