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 El Salvador and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Cal Tjader to the rap 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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
Wasted Youth,
Talk Talk,
Gang Green,
The Black Dice,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-102,
The Slackers,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lou Reed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Pop Group,
The Zeros,
the Soft Cell,
Fluxion,
Arab on Radar,
The Monochrome Set,
June of 44,
Brass Construction,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Association,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jerry's Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
LL Cool J,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
June Days,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doors,
The Cure,
Slick Rick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ultra Naté,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sun City Girls,
Siglo XX,
48th St. Collective,
KRS-One,
Jacques Brel,
Sarah Menescal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Neil Young,
Echospace,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
ABBA,
Kevin Saunderson,
Saccharine Trust,
Livin' Joy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Cale,
Television,
Outsiders,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.