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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Seeds to the crunk 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar 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 arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
EPMD,
Deadbeat,
The Remains,
JFA,
Jimmy McGriff,
Morten Harket,
Banda Bassotti,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Godley & Creme,
The United States of America,
Gang Starr,
Quadrant,
The Monochrome Set,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
Joe Finger,
Echospace,
the Germs,
Gichy Dan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul II Soul,
A Certain Ratio,
Crime,
Rites of Spring,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Howard Jones,
Toni Rubio,
Crooked Eye,
Boz Scaggs,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Roxy Music,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül,
Buzzcocks,
Magma,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Stiv Bators,
Peter & Gordon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New York Dolls,
Alton Ellis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Procol Harum,
Reagan Youth,
Ohio Players,
Average White Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
The Real Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
Icehouse,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.