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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Boogie Down Productions to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ 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 mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gories,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Smooth,
The Litter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
Babytalk,
Underground Resistance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Symarip,
Stiv Bators,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cecil Taylor,
10cc,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mad Mike,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultra Naté,
Cybotron,
James White and The Blacks,
Sex Pistols,
Lee Hazlewood,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
Quando Quango,
EPMD,
Easy Going,
Sonic Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Angry Samoans,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rapeman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ossler,
Public Image Ltd.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Zero Boys,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stereo Dub,
JFA,
The Walker Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lindisfarne,
Au Pairs,
This Heat,
Barrington Levy,
Duran Duran,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.