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 Comoros and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 FM Einheit to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Fat Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
the Soft Cell,
H. Thieme,
Supertramp,
MDC,
Parry Music,
Jacob Miller,
Q65,
Minnie Riperton,
Bluetip,
Idris Muhammad,
The Doobie Brothers,
Grauzone,
The Invisible,
Yusef Lateef,
Terrestrial Tones,
D'Angelo,
AZ,
Radio Birdman,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Enemy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T. Rex,
Pantytec,
Johnny Clarke,
MC5,
Massinfluence,
Pantaleimon,
Flipper,
The Velvet Underground,
Soulsonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
U.S. Maple,
Cybotron,
Thee Headcoats,
Outsiders,
Easy Going,
Kas Product,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dark Day,
The Cowsills,
Ossler,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Interpol,
Drive Like Jehu,
Eden Ahbez,
Mr. Review,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
T.S.O.L.,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Steve Hackett,
the Swans,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.