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 Bolivia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Massinfluence to the punk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe 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 güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Carl Craig,
Lou Reed,
Spandau Ballet,
Bluetip,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Cell,
Symarip,
Dead Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
X-101,
The Litter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The American Breed,
Mantronix,
The Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Erykah Badu,
China Crisis,
The Stooges,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yellowson,
Rod Modell,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marvin Gaye,
Scrapy,
Hasil Adkins,
Boredoms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultra Naté,
Mars,
the Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
Stiv Bators,
Eden Ahbez,
Porter Ricks,
Eddi Front,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Amon Düül,
Gichy Dan,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Monolake,
the Sonics,
the Human League,
The Five Americans,
Derrick May,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Angels of Light,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
Newcleus,
Suburban Knight,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.