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 Iceland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ornette Coleman to the grime 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
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,
Crime,
The Motions,
One Last Wish,
Crooked Eye,
Sister Nancy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Q65,
The Blackbyrds,
Mo-Dettes,
Ice-T,
Frankie Knuckles,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Soft Cell,
The Monochrome Set,
Cymande,
The Star Department,
Smog,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Aural Exciters,
The Fire Engines,
Man Parrish,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
Babytalk,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mark Hollis,
Faraquet,
Black Pus,
The Neon Judgement,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fat Boys,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joensuu 1685,
F. McDonald,
Prince Buster,
Rites of Spring,
Altered Images,
Wasted Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Moss Icon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Junior Murvin,
Kurtis Blow,
Kayak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rakim,
Gang Green,
Hasil Adkins,
Darondo,
Talk Talk,
New York Dolls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.