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 Tajikistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mighty Diamonds to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Can,
The Happenings,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Barracudas,
Pylon,
The Busters,
Supertramp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Raincoats,
Royal Trux,
Skriet,
Radio Birdman,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Idris Muhammad,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
Model 500,
Glambeats Corp.,
JFA,
Graham Central Station,
Danielle Patucci,
New York Dolls,
Rotary Connection,
The Divine Comedy,
Fatback Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Harry Pussy,
The Durutti Column,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Mills,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
FM Einheit,
Surgeon,
X-102,
Theoretical Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pulsallama,
Crooked Eye,
Wings,
Pole,
The Stooges,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
The Slits,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Stockholm Monsters,
In Retrospect,
The Angels of Light,
Donald Byrd,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.