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 East Timor and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tears for Fears,
Althea and Donna,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Womack,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heaven 17,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Victims,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
Crash Course in Science,
Eurythmics,
Deakin,
Au Pairs,
Arthur Verocai,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fuzztones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Clear Light,
The Doors,
Alice Coltrane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lindisfarne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Freddie Wadling,
Scan 7,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Juan Atkins,
Porter Ricks,
The Blackbyrds,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aloha Tigers,
The Human League,
Curtis Mayfield,
Suicide,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Panda Bear,
L. Decosne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Sheep,
The Kinks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fad Gadget,
Theoretical Girls,
The Seeds,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The J.B.'s,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.