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 Armenia and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gang Starr to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a linndrum 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 arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Sight & Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Silicon Teens,
Parry Music,
Underground Resistance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kurtis Blow,
Mission of Burma,
Jandek,
The Shadows of Knight,
Anakelly,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Minor Threat,
Aloha Tigers,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Lydon,
Tears for Fears,
Wire,
Jacques Brel,
John Foxx,
Joyce Sims,
The Smiths,
Soft Machine,
Donny Hathaway,
Barrington Levy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Audionom,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Iggy Pop,
Swans,
H. Thieme,
Can,
A Certain Ratio,
KRS-One,
Ultravox,
The Cramps,
Yazoo,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bush Tetras,
The Slackers,
The J.B.'s,
Accadde A,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Moleskins,
New York Dolls,
Duran Duran,
Sonny Sharrock,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
Ornette Coleman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.