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 Romania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Echospace,
the Swans,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids,
Kenny Larkin,
The Real Kids,
John Holt,
Massinfluence,
Suicide,
The Grass Roots,
The Last Poets,
Subhumans,
FM Einheit,
the Normal,
Nico,
The Skatalites,
Wolf Eyes,
H. Thieme,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Pylon,
Kevin Saunderson,
UT,
One Last Wish,
The Star Department,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
Radio Birdman,
Lungfish,
Charles Mingus,
The Smiths,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Thee Headcoats,
ABBA,
Loose Ends,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed,
Judy Mowatt,
Zapp,
Faust,
The Evens,
Bobby Hutcherson,
48th St. Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ronan,
Black Flag,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Donald Byrd,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Index,
Todd Terry,
Mark Hollis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ken Boothe,
Josef K,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.