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 Comoros and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
F. McDonald,
a-ha,
Harmonia,
Bobby Byrd,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Halsall,
The Slackers,
Black Bananas,
The Cramps,
Howard Jones,
The Red Krayola,
Byron Stingily,
David McCallum,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Moleskins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Delta 5,
Mo-Dettes,
Young Marble Giants,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
The Toasters,
Cluster,
Nick Fraelich,
The Move,
Sparks,
Cymande,
Vainqueur,
10cc,
Dark Day,
Chrome,
Faraquet,
H. Thieme,
Sam Rivers,
Janne Schatter,
Al Stewart,
Yusef Lateef,
Lungfish,
cv313,
Slick Rick,
Kerrie Biddell,
Saccharine Trust,
Charles Mingus,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Names,
The Skatalites,
Erykah Badu,
Black Flag,
Laurel Aitken,
Vladislav Delay,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.