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 Australia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Paris.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Depeche Mode to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron 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 güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Scientists,
Grauzone,
Con Funk Shun,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Monochrome Set,
Altered Images,
Radiopuhelimet,
Howard Jones,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
Oneida,
Cecil Taylor,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Tubeway Army,
The Toasters,
La Düsseldorf,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Graham Central Station,
Godley & Creme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cameo,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Swans,
Amon Düül,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Aaron Thompson,
Brand Nubian,
FM Einheit,
The Selecter,
Man Parrish,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fat Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Peter and Kerry,
The Music Machine,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fatback Band,
Ludus,
Lucky Dragons,
Yusef Lateef,
Japan,
Liliput,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
T.S.O.L.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kas Product,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson, Bobby Hutcherson.
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.