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 Barbados and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Howard Jones to the electroclash 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Cell,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Zeros,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
Silicon Teens,
The Young Rascals,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harry Pussy,
Joy Division,
Blancmange,
Nils Olav,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
Trumans Water,
Stetsasonic,
John Cale,
Ponytail,
The Alarm Clocks,
Godley & Creme,
Au Pairs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
Man Parrish,
David Axelrod,
T. Rex,
Cheater Slicks,
The Vogues,
The Neon Judgement,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mo-Dettes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crooked Eye,
Kurtis Blow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Whodini,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Crispian St. Peters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camberwell Now,
Marmalade,
48th St. Collective,
Ultravox,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tears for Fears,
Gang Starr,
The Doobie Brothers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dead C,
Main Source,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.