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 Kiribati and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Charles Mingus to the jazz 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Audionom,
Sound Behaviour,
Main Source,
China Crisis,
Yellowson,
Desert Stars,
D'Angelo,
World's Most,
The Shadows of Knight,
Subhumans,
Wasted Youth,
Massinfluence,
Panda Bear,
T. Rex,
Judy Mowatt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
The Slackers,
Steve Hackett,
Monolake,
Oblivians,
Terry Callier,
Mission of Burma,
Wings,
Sandy B,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hoover,
Flash Fearless,
The Invisible,
Tommy Roe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Das Ding,
Peter and Kerry,
the Sonics,
Simply Red,
The Raincoats,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Glenn Branca,
Peter & Gordon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Black Dice,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aswad,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radiohead,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scratch Acid,
La Düsseldorf,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roxette,
Goldenarms,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.