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 Thailand and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Al Stewart to the grunge 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a clarinet 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Qualms,
The Buckinghams,
Absolute Body Control,
Neu!,
The Trojans,
The Knickerbockers,
X-102,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Icehouse,
Theoretical Girls,
Dead Boys,
Yazoo,
UT,
Dark Day,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Susan Cadogan,
John Cale,
Ten City,
Japan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lyres,
Godley & Creme,
Black Flag,
Dave Gahan,
Bootsy Collins,
Darondo,
Metal Thangz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The American Breed,
Smog,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
The Golliwogs,
Matthew Halsall,
MC5,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Fluxion,
Country Teasers,
The Invisible,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
These Immortal Souls,
MDC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Donny Hathaway,
Aaron Thompson,
Roxette,
the Soft Cell,
Isaac Hayes,
Agent Orange,
The Smoke,
The Fortunes,
Skarface,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.