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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Gang Dance to the funk 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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Prince Buster,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
The Dave Clark Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rekid,
The Gladiators,
Subhumans,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
Electric Prunes,
Mars,
The Motions,
Newcleus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
the Normal,
Underground Resistance,
The Trojans,
Swell Maps,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
10cc,
Easy Going,
Los Fastidios,
Mo-Dettes,
Grey Daturas,
Symarip,
Ken Boothe,
The Victims,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
OOIOO,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scratch Acid,
China Crisis,
The United States of America,
Susan Cadogan,
Siglo XX,
EPMD,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
In Retrospect,
Maurizio,
The Zeros,
Max Romeo,
Eli Mardock,
Tears for Fears,
David McCallum,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ronnie Foster,
Jacob Miller,
Duran Duran,
Das Ding,
Crash Course in Science,
Pole,
Interpol,
the Association,
Tommy Roe,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.