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 Pakistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Sixth Finger 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Minor Threat,
Desert Stars,
Agent Orange,
T.S.O.L.,
Roxy Music,
Mark Hollis,
Blake Baxter,
Half Japanese,
Duran Duran,
Drive Like Jehu,
Minny Pops,
Tears for Fears,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
This Heat,
The Golliwogs,
John Lydon,
Sugar Minott,
Vladislav Delay,
Joensuu 1685,
Laurel Aitken,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Television,
Patti Smith,
Terrestrial Tones,
Goldenarms,
Traffic Nightmare,
Silicon Teens,
The Happenings,
Unwound,
Deakin,
a-ha,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dawn Penn,
In Retrospect,
The Fuzztones,
Pierre Henry,
Fugazi,
Kayak,
Bobby Womack,
Newcleus,
Babytalk,
Bill Wells,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ronnie Foster,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
The Moody Blues,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Junior Murvin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radio Birdman,
The Wake,
The Dirtbombs,
Max Romeo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sex Pistols,
Depeche Mode,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.