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 Malaysia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the punk 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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Lynne,
Glambeats Corp.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Dark Day,
Isaac Hayes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Main Source,
R.M.O.,
Harry Pussy,
Marmalade,
The J.B.'s,
Ossler,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soul Sonic Force,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dennis Brown,
Inner City,
Be Bop Deluxe,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lower 48,
Henry Cow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
ABC,
Grauzone,
Robert Hood,
The Saints,
Magma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hasil Adkins,
Urselle,
Bluetip,
Panda Bear,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Television,
Terrestrial Tones,
Glenn Branca,
Piero Umiliani,
Altered Images,
The Fortunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ice-T,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Siglo XX,
Albert Ayler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Oblivians,
the Germs,
Surgeon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Howard Jones,
The Knickerbockers,
Lyres,
Flipper,
Andrew Hill,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.