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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 Tom Boy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade,
The Birthday Party,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Count Five,
Jeru the Damaja,
Reagan Youth,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultra Naté,
Average White Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Section 25,
A Certain Ratio,
a-ha,
FM Einheit,
The Human League,
Lakeside,
Surgeon,
Goldenarms,
John Foxx,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Grey Daturas,
David Axelrod,
R.M.O.,
Make Up,
Ornette Coleman,
Masters at Work,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
Essential Logic,
Agent Orange,
Patti Smith,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
Max Romeo,
The Doors,
Cheater Slicks,
Duran Duran,
Faraquet,
Yaz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mark Hollis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Cell,
Man Parrish,
The American Breed,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
Depeche Mode,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Henry Cow,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.