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 Hungary and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Procol Harum to the rock 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Fat Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Franke,
Josef K,
Angry Samoans,
Nico,
Interpol,
Sonic Youth,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
Scratch Acid,
The Music Machine,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jawbox,
Smog,
These Immortal Souls,
Pylon,
Newcleus,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Blues Magoos,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
Aural Exciters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultimate Spinach,
Infiniti,
Skaos,
The Shadows of Knight,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Duran Duran,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
David McCallum,
Cheater Slicks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
Warren Ellis,
Kas Product,
Boogie Down Productions,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed,
UT,
Maurizio,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Saccharine Trust,
Peter and Kerry,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
X-102,
Tim Buckley,
Bush Tetras,
Youth Brigade,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.