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 East Timor and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Slits to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Bourne,
Marine Girls,
Terry Callier,
Ronnie Foster,
Livin' Joy,
Bad Manners,
Todd Rundgren,
Popol Vuh,
Leonard Cohen,
R.M.O.,
Animal Collective,
Ultra Naté,
Ornette Coleman,
Alice Coltrane,
Davy DMX,
X-102,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
Television Personalities,
T.S.O.L.,
Vladislav Delay,
Morten Harket,
Donny Hathaway,
Roger Hodgson,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
The Gap Band,
Zapp,
Supertramp,
Pylon,
Avey Tare,
The Index,
Babytalk,
Sonic Youth,
The American Breed,
Gong,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Slackers,
Unrelated Segments,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Martian,
Black Moon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kurtis Blow,
Wasted Youth,
Fela Kuti,
The Gories,
Saccharine Trust,
Pagans,
The Buckinghams,
L. Decosne,
OOIOO,
Ken Boothe,
Arab on Radar,
Warren Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Scott Walker,
In Retrospect,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.