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 Nepal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Fat Boys to the dance 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar 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 güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Kinks,
Royal Trux,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Alice Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick Morgan,
Easy Going,
Moebius,
The Pop Group,
Severed Heads,
La Düsseldorf,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultra Naté,
Intrusion,
FM Einheit,
Angry Samoans,
The Blackbyrds,
Chrome,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
Dead Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ossler,
Soulsonic Force,
Jawbox,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Techniques,
Brick,
Newcleus,
Echospace,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
June of 44,
Guru Guru,
Lou Reed,
MDC,
Aaron Thompson,
The Slits,
Eric Copeland,
Minny Pops,
The Count Five,
Gang Starr,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kayak,
Jandek,
Niagra,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
Lucky Dragons,
Nirvana,
Ponytail,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris Corsano,
Roxette,
Patti Smith,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.