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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Man Parrish to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Unwound. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Section 25,
Archie Shepp,
Pussy Galore,
The Fortunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Stooges,
Blake Baxter,
Gang Green,
Television Personalities,
Icehouse,
Metal Thangz,
The Mojo Men,
Joy Division,
Underground Resistance,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-101,
Junior Murvin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rekid,
Roy Ayers,
The Pop Group,
Scrapy,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
Nils Olav,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Busters,
Ronnie Foster,
The Move,
Supertramp,
the Human League,
Avey Tare,
Bang On A Can,
The Smoke,
Dawn Penn,
Das Ding,
John Cale,
Radiopuhelimet,
One Last Wish,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
Aloha Tigers,
The Doors,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Halsall,
The Real Kids,
Liliput,
Zapp,
The New Christs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
The Velvet Underground,
The Last Poets,
Delta 5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.