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 Guinea and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Stiv Bators 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum 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 a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Donald Byrd,
Little Man,
Interpol,
Sight & Sound,
Morten Harket,
The Dirtbombs,
Suburban Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Tim Buckley,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
Sexual Harrassment,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeff Lynne,
Mars,
Brick,
Eli Mardock,
Letta Mbulu,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Livin' Joy,
Deakin,
U.S. Maple,
The Moody Blues,
FM Einheit,
Porter Ricks,
Blake Baxter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Skriet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Talk Talk,
Robert Hood,
Sister Nancy,
Mark Hollis,
The Sonics,
K-Klass,
The Offenders,
Tropical Tobacco,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Associates,
Piero Umiliani,
Silicon Teens,
Toni Rubio,
Technova,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fire Engines,
Schoolly D,
Charles Mingus,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Young Rascals,
Matthew Halsall,
The Index,
The Electric Prunes,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.