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 Iraq and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the dance 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Buzzcocks,
The Saints,
Chrome,
Slave,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tubeway Army,
Mark Hollis,
David Axelrod,
Aaron Thompson,
Josef K,
Fat Boys,
F. McDonald,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eurythmics,
Skarface,
Marmalade,
Al Stewart,
Sällskapet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jawbox,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
Sixth Finger,
The Skatalites,
The Searchers,
Infiniti,
Ituana,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Basic Channel,
Q65,
Rotary Connection,
Roger Hodgson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Silicon Teens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Monks,
Qualms,
Depeche Mode,
Mars,
H. Thieme,
Gerry Rafferty,
This Heat,
Delta 5,
The Walker Brothers,
Clear Light,
Spandau Ballet,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Count Five,
Altered Images,
Eddi Front,
Minor Threat,
Freddie Wadling,
Oneida,
Idris Muhammad,
Pierre Henry,
Faust,
Ken Boothe,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.