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 Dominica and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the grime 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer 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 mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Angry Samoans,
Bronski Beat,
The Moody Blues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Black Pus,
Adolescents,
Quadrant,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moebius,
Kaleidoscope,
The Vogues,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Womack,
Graham Central Station,
Dark Day,
Cymande,
Quando Quango,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arcadia,
Ultra Naté,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alison Limerick,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Offenders,
Arthur Verocai,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
Lyres,
Second Layer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantytec,
Accadde A,
Visage,
The Cowsills,
Chrome,
Bauhaus,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Wells,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bang On A Can,
Reagan Youth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Can,
Davy DMX,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacques Brel,
Pylon,
Chris Corsano,
Harpers Bizarre,
Simply Red,
Gregory Isaacs,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.