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 Kosovo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Index to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a chamberlin 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 oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Moon,
Harpers Bizarre,
David Axelrod,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brick,
Porter Ricks,
KRS-One,
Crime,
Jandek,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
Average White Band,
EPMD,
The Gladiators,
Goldenarms,
Spoonie Gee,
Heaven 17,
Mark Hollis,
June Days,
JFA,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
The Index,
The Barracudas,
Anakelly,
Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minnie Riperton,
Shoche,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
Joe Smooth,
The Slackers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
L. Decosne,
Ronan,
The Fugs,
Stiv Bators,
Nation of Ulysses,
MDC,
A Certain Ratio,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Cecil Taylor,
Talk Talk,
Robert Görl,
Joe Finger,
Tom Boy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Simply Red,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
Warren Ellis,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.