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 New Zealand and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba 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 linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Talk Talk,
Siglo XX,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Negative Approach,
New York Dolls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
kango's stein massive,
Jacques Brel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quantec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Fall,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quando Quango,
Arcadia,
Newcleus,
Eric Copeland,
Bush Tetras,
Agitation Free,
Max Romeo,
Rosa Yemen,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
The Associates,
The Stooges,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mr. Review,
The Pop Group,
DNA,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blake Baxter,
The Cramps,
Ornette Coleman,
Leonard Cohen,
Sugar Minott,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
The Kinks,
Alton Ellis,
Minor Threat,
Jacob Miller,
Crooked Eye,
The Mojo Men,
Fluxion,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ludus,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vainqueur,
Dark Day,
Neil Young,
the Soft Cell,
Easy Going,
ABC,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.