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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lightning Bolt to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 guitar and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
The Seeds,
Warren Ellis,
the Germs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Grandmaster Flash,
Los Fastidios,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Piero Umiliani,
DNA,
Gang Starr,
The Gories,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Cluster,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Goldenarms,
Absolute Body Control,
Yellowson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Spoonie Gee,
Bauhaus,
Lyres,
The Dead C,
Bootsy Collins,
Faraquet,
Yaz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thompson Twins,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
Mo-Dettes,
Rapeman,
Camberwell Now,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Popol Vuh,
In Retrospect,
Sugar Minott,
Lakeside,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
X-101,
Anthony Braxton,
The Invisible,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster,
Connie Case,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick Morgan,
The Monks,
Marine Girls,
The Modern Lovers,
a-ha,
Loose Ends,
The Red Krayola,
The Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.