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 Jamaica and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sixth Finger to the funk 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a harpsichord and a sitar 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 theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Stockholm Monsters,
Das Ding,
Procol Harum,
Joyce Sims,
Pierre Henry,
The Neon Judgement,
Animal Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eve St. Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grey Daturas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lakeside,
The Litter,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Tres Demented,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Spoonie Gee,
The Grass Roots,
Erykah Badu,
Ice-T,
Eric B and Rakim,
Q and Not U,
Can,
Erasure,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
B.T. Express,
Mars,
Kayak,
Thompson Twins,
Popol Vuh,
Guru Guru,
The Beau Brummels,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lucky Dragons,
Lyres,
Gastr Del Sol,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blake Baxter,
Darondo,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sister Nancy,
Fear,
Hashim,
Robert Görl,
Sällskapet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
the Swans,
Ultra Naté,
Prince Buster,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.