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 Guinea-Bissau and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
The Standells,
Sam Rivers,
The Smoke,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
Mars,
a-ha,
Dave Gahan,
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
David McCallum,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang Green,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Average White Band,
The Fall,
Pagans,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DJ Sneak,
Bad Manners,
48th St. Collective,
Fugazi,
Y Pants,
Nirvana,
The Moleskins,
Au Pairs,
Bill Near,
The Count Five,
Ossler,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Swell Maps,
Kenny Larkin,
ABC,
Sun Ra,
Deadbeat,
Lower 48,
Groovy Waters,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
Guru Guru,
ABBA,
Shoche,
Make Up,
Fluxion,
Crime,
June Days,
Quando Quango,
The Dead C,
James White and The Blacks,
Rod Modell,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Duran Duran,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Gladiators,
Jacques Brel,
Mark Hollis,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.