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 Namibia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Raincoats to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator 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 sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Technova,
The Durutti Column,
John Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Magazine,
Skriet,
Bill Wells,
Reuben Wilson,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Green,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Qualms,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultravox,
Los Fastidios,
John Foxx,
Supertramp,
Tom Boy,
Derrick May,
Wings,
Buzzcocks,
Barry Ungar,
Theoretical Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
The Fall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DNA,
Bobby Sherman,
Michelle Simonal,
Q65,
The American Breed,
New Order,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ultimate Spinach,
KRS-One,
The Gories,
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
Clear Light,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wolf Eyes,
World's Most,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blancmange,
John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
The Offenders,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.