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 Eritrea and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Fugs to the grunge 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pagans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Dead Boys,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bluetip,
Bootsy Collins,
Boz Scaggs,
Q65,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Star Department,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Youth Brigade,
Steve Hackett,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hardrive,
Brick,
Half Japanese,
The Durutti Column,
Todd Rundgren,
Circle Jerks,
Dark Day,
EPMD,
Neu!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bronski Beat,
Stetsasonic,
In Retrospect,
Quantec,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dawn Penn,
Joyce Sims,
The Busters,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Görl,
Surgeon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Music Machine,
A Certain Ratio,
Rufus Thomas,
Hot Snakes,
Marmalade,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
Spoonie Gee,
Marcia Griffiths,
Agitation Free,
The Angels of Light,
Rapeman,
Excepter,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chrome,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.