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 Cambodia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Theoretical Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 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 spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Durutti Column,
Lindisfarne,
Pole,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fire Engines,
Ornette Coleman,
Scion,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Christie,
Wings,
Marine Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Anakelly,
Colin Newman,
the Bar-Kays,
The Buckinghams,
Dual Sessions,
Young Marble Giants,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Model 500,
Kevin Saunderson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
Scan 7,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Trojans,
The Martian,
The Last Poets,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bootsy Collins,
Slick Rick,
Stereo Dub,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brand Nubian,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
The Wake,
T. Rex,
New Order,
John Coltrane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Graham Central Station,
Morten Harket,
Boogie Down Productions,
Judy Mowatt,
L. Decosne,
MDC,
Black Pus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skriet,
Dawn Penn,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.