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 Qatar and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Monks to the jazz 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a rhodes 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Heaven 17,
Deepchord,
The Sonics,
Moby Grape,
Quando Quango,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
Au Pairs,
Quadrant,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pantytec,
Barbara Tucker,
Clear Light,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minny Pops,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Womack,
Skaos,
Rapeman,
FM Einheit,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
The Mummies,
Tomorrow,
Wally Richardson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Angels of Light,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Barracudas,
Brass Construction,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barry Ungar,
The Motions,
Grauzone,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Bananas,
These Immortal Souls,
Bootsy Collins,
Ice-T,
kango's stein massive,
Crooked Eye,
UT,
a-ha,
Eden Ahbez,
the Normal,
Peter & Gordon,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Hood,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gun Club,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang of Four,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ultravox,
Derrick Morgan,
The Seeds,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.