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 Benin and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 The Fall to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Con Funk Shun,
Dead Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
Bootsy Collins,
Young Marble Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lalo Schifrin,
Los Fastidios,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythm & Sound,
Model 500,
Toni Rubio,
Faust,
Ten City,
The Sound,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
Skriet,
the Association,
Clear Light,
Neu!,
The Cowsills,
The Slits,
Television Personalities,
The Motions,
Howard Jones,
Silicon Teens,
E-Dancer,
K-Klass,
The Young Rascals,
JFA,
Chrome,
Dawn Penn,
Buzzcocks,
Fad Gadget,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
H. Thieme,
Inner City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Bar-Kays,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eddi Front,
Von Mondo,
Bronski Beat,
Q65,
Pere Ubu,
D'Angelo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Wells,
Donny Hathaway,
Sound Behaviour,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Kenny Larkin,
Piero Umiliani,
Prince Buster,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deepchord,
Robert Wyatt,
Unwound,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.