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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Roy Ayers to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Human League,
Quando Quango,
Barry Ungar,
Don Cherry,
Sarah Menescal,
The Kinks,
The Slackers,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
The Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
Surgeon,
Yellowson,
Wire,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pulsallama,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
LL Cool J,
The Smoke,
Flipper,
Amon Düül II,
Whodini,
Eurythmics,
Sixth Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
These Immortal Souls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Todd Rundgren,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Buckinghams,
Thee Headcoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Grass Roots,
Vladislav Delay,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Technova,
Eden Ahbez,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
Prince Buster,
Quadrant,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Modern Lovers,
Monolake,
The J.B.'s,
Country Teasers,
Jerry's Kids,
Porter Ricks,
Fela Kuti,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
Clear Light,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Litter,
June of 44,
Eve St. Jones,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.