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 Cuba and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Nils Olav to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 arpeggiator 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 oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers,
the Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
Pussy Galore,
Barbara Tucker,
Rites of Spring,
Crooked Eye,
Brass Construction,
Cluster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brick,
Cal Tjader,
Pet Shop Boys,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Byron Stingily,
Fatback Band,
Inner City,
H. Thieme,
David Bowie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Move,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pylon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fela Kuti,
Jacob Miller,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Bananas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glenn Branca,
Oblivians,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Toni Rubio,
Scientists,
Crash Course in Science,
Carl Craig,
X-102,
Masters at Work,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sarah Menescal,
Avey Tare,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Funky Four + One,
EPMD,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Pole,
Bang On A Can,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.