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 St Kitts & Nevis 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Soul II Soul to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 UT. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba 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 chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
The Cramps,
X-Ray Spex,
Nico,
The Victims,
Maurizio,
B.T. Express,
Fatback Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Flag,
Fad Gadget,
the Sonics,
Pantytec,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scientists,
the Association,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
ABC,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Hood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun Ra,
Sonic Youth,
Gang of Four,
The Slits,
Ultimate Spinach,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bill Near,
48th St. Collective,
Severed Heads,
Brand Nubian,
Harmonia,
Matthew Halsall,
Khruangbin,
Heaven 17,
Alice Coltrane,
Fat Boys,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soul II Soul,
Slave,
ABBA,
Derrick May,
The Knickerbockers,
The Raincoats,
Black Bananas,
Dark Day,
Robert Görl,
Public Enemy,
Idris Muhammad,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
The Neon Judgement,
Ten City,
Pole,
Metal Thangz,
Quando Quango,
Barbara Tucker,
Joey Negro,
Newcleus,
The Music Machine,
Clear Light,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.