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 Slovakia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeru the Damaja to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stetsasonic. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Aural Exciters,
Sun City Girls,
Scion,
Sonny Sharrock,
The American Breed,
The Angels of Light,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Mills,
Morten Harket,
The Invisible,
Blake Baxter,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Icehouse,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Vladislav Delay,
June of 44,
Lou Reed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fatback Band,
Yazoo,
Glenn Branca,
MDC,
Supertramp,
the Soft Cell,
Aaron Thompson,
Bad Manners,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Names,
La Düsseldorf,
A Certain Ratio,
The Walker Brothers,
The Fortunes,
Porter Ricks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Section 25,
The Mojo Men,
The Wake,
Los Fastidios,
Curtis Mayfield,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Accadde A,
Bush Tetras,
Drexciya,
Lyres,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
Girls At Our Best!,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scientists,
Matthew Bourne,
Donald Byrd,
DNA,
Reagan Youth,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Kinks,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.