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 Estonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 of Four to the jazz 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Marc Almond,
Rekid,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
Iggy Pop,
The Pretty Things,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bluetip,
Mantronix,
Tears for Fears,
The Offenders,
Brand Nubian,
The Count Five,
John Coltrane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Technova,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ronan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Harmonia,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gladiators,
The Flesh Eaters,
L. Decosne,
Theoretical Girls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
World's Most,
Electric Prunes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rod Modell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Barracudas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cymande,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lakeside,
Kas Product,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yellowson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Basic Channel,
Das Ding,
Essential Logic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anakelly,
The Red Krayola,
Ohio Players,
Metal Thangz,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.