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 Indonesia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Q65 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fela Kuti,
Aloha Tigers,
Soul Sonic Force,
ABC,
Funkadelic,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy Collins,
Minnie Riperton,
Henry Cow,
Cal Tjader,
Sun Ra,
Depeche Mode,
Tomorrow,
The Misunderstood,
Scientists,
Sparks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Little Man,
the Sonics,
Janne Schatter,
Sight & Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Wells,
Sister Nancy,
New Order,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Chris Corsano,
John Holt,
Lou Christie,
Mark Hollis,
Brick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pantaleimon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grauzone,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marine Girls,
Lower 48,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Qualms,
Gerry Rafferty,
The New Christs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barbara Tucker,
Camouflage,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Vogues,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.