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 Paraguay and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 oboe 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Litter,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bill Wells,
Shuggie Otis,
Mr. Review,
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
Blancmange,
Buzzcocks,
Lindisfarne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Massinfluence,
Quadrant,
Smog,
Monks,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Fatback Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Unrelated Segments,
Aural Exciters,
Magma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Von Mondo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The New Christs,
Negative Approach,
Crooked Eye,
Eyeless In Gaza,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Womack,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Fraelich,
Kayak,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Move,
Delta 5,
Nas,
Oneida,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Gerry Rafferty,
Faust,
Jeff Lynne,
Au Pairs,
Average White Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spandau Ballet,
Lou Christie,
Swell Maps,
The Index,
Brass Construction,
Bill Near,
Grauzone,
The Associates,
Idris Muhammad,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.