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 Latvia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Marc Almond to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
The Slackers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Excepter,
La Düsseldorf,
Tres Demented,
Camouflage,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Darondo,
Erasure,
The Shadows of Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Alton Ellis,
Lightning Bolt,
Quando Quango,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
Monks,
Joensuu 1685,
The Golliwogs,
Q and Not U,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare,
Sparks,
Von Mondo,
The Gladiators,
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hasil Adkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radiohead,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dave Clark Five,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
New York Dolls,
Black Pus,
Gong,
Icehouse,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed,
Fear,
Grauzone,
Ronan,
Zero Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Faraquet,
L. Decosne,
Toni Rubio,
Yusef Lateef,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Moon,
Organ,
Zapp,
H. Thieme,
Eddi Front,
Jeff Mills,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.