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 Singapore and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The American Breed to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
T. Rex,
Deakin,
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
Ossler,
Joensuu 1685,
Hashim,
Lyres,
The Names,
48th St. Collective,
The Move,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mad Mike,
Dennis Brown,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Smog,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Buckinghams,
Ice-T,
Malaria!,
DJ Style,
The Stooges,
Erykah Badu,
Scientists,
John Coltrane,
Skriet,
Aswad,
Sun City Girls,
The J.B.'s,
The Knickerbockers,
Arthur Verocai,
Television,
Circle Jerks,
Unwound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quadrant,
Tom Boy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Reuben Wilson,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
The Dead C,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moleskins,
Joey Negro,
Fat Boys,
kango's stein massive,
The Alarm Clocks,
Peter and Kerry,
The Trojans,
Silicon Teens,
Donald Byrd,
The Fugs,
The United States of America,
Lindisfarne,
Wasted Youth,
Trumans Water,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.