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 Albania and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Spoonie Gee to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Duran Duran,
H. Thieme,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
The Monochrome Set,
The Saints,
Jeff Mills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Offenders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
PIL,
Monolake,
Nils Olav,
Jeff Lynne,
Oblivians,
Radiohead,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
One Last Wish,
Neil Young,
Chris Corsano,
Sam Rivers,
Rapeman,
the Bar-Kays,
The Grass Roots,
Goldenarms,
B.T. Express,
Pussy Galore,
The Divine Comedy,
Lower 48,
Camberwell Now,
Barry Ungar,
The Leaves,
Bizarre Inc.,
Motorama,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sonics,
Eddi Front,
Sällskapet,
Peter and Kerry,
Fad Gadget,
Bill Near,
Marc Almond,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Christie,
Heaven 17,
Pulsallama,
Minnie Riperton,
The Kinks,
Kaleidoscope,
Alison Limerick,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Swans,
Amazonics,
Oneida,
Country Teasers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kas Product,
Derrick May,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.