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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 One Last Wish to the punk 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Harmonia,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kevin Saunderson,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
Neu!,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Residents,
The Zeros,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
E-Dancer,
Marmalade,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bluetip,
Piero Umiliani,
The Tremeloes,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Gong,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lee Hazlewood,
Drexciya,
The Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slits,
Ponytail,
Cheater Slicks,
Arcadia,
Rosa Yemen,
Scratch Acid,
Funkadelic,
Laurel Aitken,
Nas,
Michelle Simonal,
Ice-T,
Kayak,
The Stooges,
These Immortal Souls,
Pussy Galore,
Cal Tjader,
Parry Music,
Rapeman,
Archie Shepp,
Don Cherry,
Nico,
L. Decosne,
Yusef Lateef,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk,
Stereo Dub,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Charles Mingus,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Searchers,
Danielle Patucci,
Barry Ungar,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.