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 Bahamas and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Durutti Column to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord 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 a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
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,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantytec,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lower 48,
Von Mondo,
Roxy Music,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Funky Four + One,
Chris Corsano,
The Move,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Al Stewart,
Underground Resistance,
Lucky Dragons,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Judy Mowatt,
the Human League,
Monolake,
Q and Not U,
Nils Olav,
Erykah Badu,
DNA,
Khruangbin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Starr,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Prince Buster,
Sun City Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roger Hodgson,
Ice-T,
Audionom,
Tom Boy,
Intrusion,
Camouflage,
John Coltrane,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Magazine,
Essential Logic,
the Association,
Bobby Byrd,
Warsaw,
James White and The Blacks,
Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tomorrow,
Moebius,
Inner City,
The Smiths,
Ultra Naté,
Jacques Brel,
Agent Orange,
Mars,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.