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 Germany and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
Second Layer,
Silicon Teens,
Quantec,
Boredoms,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eurythmics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
48th St. Collective,
David Axelrod,
Black Pus,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Kinks,
Zero Boys,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Victims,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Sheep,
Chris Corsano,
Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Juan Atkins,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Names,
Sparks,
Cheater Slicks,
Idris Muhammad,
The Litter,
Magazine,
Organ,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mission of Burma,
Roger Hodgson,
John Coltrane,
Wings,
Chrome,
Skaos,
The Martian,
ABC,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
World's Most,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rakim,
Index,
The Five Americans,
The Vogues,
X-102,
DJ Style,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sister Nancy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moss Icon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boz Scaggs,
Barbara Tucker,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.