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 Georgia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Rufus Thomas to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a harpsichord and a theremin 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 rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Al Stewart,
The Remains,
Carl Craig,
K-Klass,
June of 44,
Spoonie Gee,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Starr,
ABC,
Youth Brigade,
Warren Ellis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Popol Vuh,
Joe Finger,
Drexciya,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stetsasonic,
These Immortal Souls,
Procol Harum,
The Invisible,
Bronski Beat,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Dolphy,
The New Christs,
Wire,
Skriet,
Young Marble Giants,
Terry Callier,
The Fortunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Echospace,
Max Romeo,
Marine Girls,
The Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Zero Boys,
Hardrive,
Unrelated Segments,
Tropical Tobacco,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
The Wake,
Black Pus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scratch Acid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
T. Rex,
Silicon Teens,
Hashim,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
Circle Jerks,
The Kinks,
the Association,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Clear Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.