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 Finland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Spandau Ballet to the grunge 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nas,
Wasted Youth,
kango's stein massive,
Saccharine Trust,
The Last Poets,
Ornette Coleman,
Nico,
Maurizio,
a-ha,
Inner City,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Los Fastidios,
Pylon,
Television,
the Swans,
10cc,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wings,
The American Breed,
Robert Görl,
Main Source,
Jawbox,
Gichy Dan,
The Cramps,
Stiv Bators,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sparks,
Scan 7,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
Circle Jerks,
The Litter,
The Gladiators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Franke,
Bauhaus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Pretty Things,
Johnny Clarke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Don Cherry,
Jeff Lynne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wolf Eyes,
Television Personalities,
Connie Case,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
The Busters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lower 48,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.