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 Ireland and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Man Eating Sloth to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Byron Stingily,
Wally Richardson,
Al Stewart,
Television Personalities,
The Cramps,
Easy Going,
The Litter,
Gang Green,
Excepter,
In Retrospect,
Spoonie Gee,
Hardrive,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ohio Players,
Sex Pistols,
James White and The Blacks,
Camberwell Now,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed,
The Cure,
Matthew Halsall,
Eric Dolphy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Agent Orange,
Howard Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Byrd,
Faust,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Copeland,
Rosa Yemen,
Eli Mardock,
Young Marble Giants,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Laurel Aitken,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lou Christie,
Kas Product,
Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
The Move,
MDC,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
T.S.O.L.,
Drexciya,
Panda Bear,
The Stooges,
Duran Duran,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Robert Görl,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shoche,
Eurythmics,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.