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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Section 25 to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a guitar 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 spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
The Five Americans,
Black Bananas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arab on Radar,
Scientists,
Livin' Joy,
Easy Going,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
Suburban Knight,
World's Most,
Graham Central Station,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Main Source,
Organ,
Sexual Harrassment,
Chris & Cosey,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sonny Sharrock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sällskapet,
Clear Light,
Ponytail,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Birthday Party,
Y Pants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eli Mardock,
The Standells,
D'Angelo,
The Fuzztones,
Harry Pussy,
Moss Icon,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Smog,
Excepter,
Rod Modell,
Rites of Spring,
The Leaves,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pagans,
Roy Ayers,
The New Christs,
ABBA,
New Age Steppers,
Procol Harum,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.