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 Peru and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Rites of Spring to the grime 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro 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 chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
ABC,
Dead Boys,
Aswad,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy Collins,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Roxette,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Young Rascals,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quando Quango,
Junior Murvin,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jawbox,
John Lydon,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultra Naté,
Masters at Work,
The Knickerbockers,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
Sandy B,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fela Kuti,
Soulsonic Force,
The Leaves,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oneida,
Japan,
Swell Maps,
The Zeros,
Juan Atkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pere Ubu,
the Sonics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Flash Fearless,
the Normal,
David McCallum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Khruangbin,
Young Marble Giants,
Ronan,
The Five Americans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yellowson,
The Dead C,
Grauzone,
Stiv Bators,
The Moleskins,
KRS-One,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.