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 Mauritania and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Avey Tare to the grime 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin 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 synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Qualms,
Wasted Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Womack,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Wake,
Erasure,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skarface,
The Mojo Men,
Todd Rundgren,
Brothers Johnson,
DJ Style,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Moleskins,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
This Heat,
Andrew Hill,
Black Moon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Albert Ayler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alphaville,
Scratch Acid,
Sällskapet,
Tears for Fears,
Little Man,
Henry Cow,
Spoonie Gee,
Robert Görl,
Audionom,
Warren Ellis,
The Slits,
Ossler,
Patti Smith,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
Eric Dolphy,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fugs,
Arthur Verocai,
Cymande,
DNA,
The Evens,
Symarip,
Amon Düül II,
Anthony Braxton,
Section 25,
Minny Pops,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.