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 Grenada and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eve St. Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ 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?
These Immortal Souls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Connie Case,
The Selecter,
Robert Görl,
Soft Cell,
The Grass Roots,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
Slave,
Panda Bear,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Newcleus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oblivians,
Marshall Jefferson,
ABBA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Animal Collective,
Kayak,
Ohio Players,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Flag,
June Days,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radio Birdman,
The Move,
Nico,
Henry Cow,
Godley & Creme,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aaron Thompson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Brand Nubian,
The Techniques,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Swans,
The Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
This Heat,
Desert Stars,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Raincoats,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
Eli Mardock,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Rundgren,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül II,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sarah Menescal,
Ultra Naté,
Mars,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.