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 Afghanistan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Davy DMX to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
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,
The Smiths,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Whodini,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultravox,
The Divine Comedy,
Tears for Fears,
Los Fastidios,
The Dirtbombs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chrome,
Black Flag,
Harry Pussy,
D'Angelo,
Suburban Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
Pussy Galore,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New York Dolls,
The Standells,
Shuggie Otis,
Deakin,
The Durutti Column,
Easy Going,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nick Fraelich,
Guru Guru,
Gong,
The Wake,
Curtis Mayfield,
Suicide,
Faraquet,
Swans,
The Count Five,
Pere Ubu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Swans,
Amazonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Doors,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter and Kerry,
David Axelrod,
the Soft Cell,
Soft Cell,
Lee Hazlewood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Simply Red,
Aaron Thompson,
Oneida,
The Toasters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.