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 Norway and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Fluxion to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Flag,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Cal Tjader,
Lyres,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ultra Naté,
Public Enemy,
Circle Jerks,
Don Cherry,
The Fuzztones,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Wake,
Derrick Morgan,
Altered Images,
Black Moon,
DJ Style,
Connie Case,
Youth Brigade,
Tears for Fears,
Young Marble Giants,
Rapeman,
The Martian,
Con Funk Shun,
Hardrive,
Eurythmics,
Robert Görl,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kevin Saunderson,
FM Einheit,
Dawn Penn,
The Birthday Party,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Aural Exciters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Silicon Teens,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerri Chandler,
Excepter,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Joyce Sims,
Sun Ra,
John Cale,
The Moody Blues,
Minutemen,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
Gabor Szabo,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dirtbombs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Golliwogs,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.