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 Senegal and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sexual Harrassment to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Minor Threat,
The Offenders,
T. Rex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Marine Girls,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Pretty Things,
Joey Negro,
Organ,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Terrestrial Tones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Harmonia,
Mantronix,
Buzzcocks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fluxion,
Arcadia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ronan,
Stockholm Monsters,
OOIOO,
Eve St. Jones,
Half Japanese,
Robert Görl,
Dennis Brown,
Goldenarms,
Tommy Roe,
Neil Young,
Infiniti,
The Real Kids,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Andrew Hill,
R.M.O.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sugar Minott,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kayak,
Reuben Wilson,
Talk Talk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Style,
The Gun Club,
Cymande,
Laurel Aitken,
Boz Scaggs,
The Move,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
ABC,
Matthew Bourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anakelly,
Soulsonic Force,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Suicide,
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.