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 Paraguay and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Steve Hackett to the grunge 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fortunes,
Masters at Work,
Eric Copeland,
Roxy Music,
Lou Christie,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Guru Guru,
Pantaleimon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Slits,
Rufus Thomas,
Monks,
Hot Snakes,
Lyres,
Ultimate Spinach,
Spoonie Gee,
Thompson Twins,
June of 44,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soul II Soul,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
In Retrospect,
MC5,
Steve Hackett,
Basic Channel,
Slick Rick,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Pop Group,
Crash Course in Science,
Average White Band,
Unwound,
DJ Style,
Lungfish,
Y Pants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
CMW,
Lou Reed,
Mantronix,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
T. Rex,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wings,
Frankie Knuckles,
Al Stewart,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Residents,
Andrew Hill,
X-102,
The Misunderstood,
Tim Buckley,
Joey Negro,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.