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 Iran and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sisters of Mercy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a 808 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 linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soul II Soul,
Albert Ayler,
The Fugs,
John Coltrane,
Wings,
Simply Red,
Radiohead,
The Last Poets,
Monks,
EPMD,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Los Fastidios,
Camouflage,
Trumans Water,
Oblivians,
Metal Thangz,
The Golliwogs,
the Association,
Masters at Work,
Black Bananas,
Gang Starr,
Interpol,
Boredoms,
Erykah Badu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Youth Brigade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Fania All-Stars,
Schoolly D,
Intrusion,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
X-102,
Hashim,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
Black Moon,
Arthur Verocai,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Smiths,
Lakeside,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thee Headcoats,
Stiv Bators,
the Human League,
Cal Tjader,
The Dave Clark Five,
Juan Atkins,
Eli Mardock,
the Germs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sound Behaviour,
Cameo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.