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 Sri Lanka and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Morten Harket to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
New Age Steppers,
The Leaves,
The Fall,
Visage,
Outsiders,
Lakeside,
Echospace,
Derrick Morgan,
Amon Düül II,
Steve Hackett,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Raincoats,
Flash Fearless,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Moleskins,
Scrapy,
Minor Threat,
Easy Going,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Foxx,
Tears for Fears,
Popol Vuh,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grauzone,
Chris Corsano,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gong,
Nick Fraelich,
Unrelated Segments,
John Holt,
Nik Kershaw,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
Gang Starr,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sister Nancy,
Average White Band,
Icehouse,
John Lydon,
Drive Like Jehu,
John Cale,
AZ,
L. Decosne,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Rod Modell,
Ultravox,
Whodini,
The Flesh Eaters,
Davy DMX,
Jeff Lynne,
Youth Brigade,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
B.T. Express,
Bizarre Inc.,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.