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 Uruguay and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stiv Bators to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 güiro and a sitar 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 mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Robert Hood,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Japan,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
Swell Maps,
Dave Gahan,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monochrome Set,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
X-102,
Icehouse,
Brass Construction,
Josef K,
Zapp,
Fear,
Alphaville,
The Fortunes,
Faraquet,
Barrington Levy,
Dark Day,
Amon Düül,
Zero Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Thompson Twins,
June Days,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wire,
Rakim,
Altered Images,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drexciya,
Sound Behaviour,
Harry Pussy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Alison Limerick,
Bush Tetras,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Star Department,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wolf Eyes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dirtbombs,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Sheep,
The Last Poets,
In Retrospect,
Cymande,
Lebanon Hanover,
T.S.O.L.,
Hoover,
the Association,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.