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 Solomon Islands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Agent Orange to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faraquet,
Todd Rundgren,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quando Quango,
PIL,
The J.B.'s,
Roxette,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joyce Sims,
Hardrive,
the Human League,
Siglo XX,
The Beau Brummels,
Reagan Youth,
Hasil Adkins,
X-101,
Wasted Youth,
Oneida,
Joe Finger,
The Wake,
Qualms,
Flash Fearless,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
Supertramp,
Loose Ends,
Maurizio,
Animal Collective,
Crash Course in Science,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ponytail,
Unwound,
The Gun Club,
Laurel Aitken,
Scion,
UT,
The Searchers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Knickerbockers,
Erasure,
The American Breed,
Gang Green,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harry Pussy,
Absolute Body Control,
Blancmange,
Make Up,
The Fall,
Eurythmics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kenny Larkin,
Drexciya,
Duran Duran,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.