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 Mali and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Electric Light Orchestra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Zapp,
The Evens,
The Neon Judgement,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Count Five,
the Bar-Kays,
Tom Boy,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
ABBA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barry Ungar,
Symarip,
Lindisfarne,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
Joe Finger,
Marcia Griffiths,
Spoonie Gee,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
Donny Hathaway,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flamin' Groovies,
T.S.O.L.,
Funkadelic,
Visage,
The Litter,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Hill,
Niagra,
The Toasters,
Deepchord,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Human League,
Dave Gahan,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arthur Verocai,
The Leaves,
Interpol,
Swell Maps,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bluetip,
MDC,
Unwound,
Simply Red,
The Remains,
The Standells,
Tubeway Army,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.