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 Nigeria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Royal Family And The Poor to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alice Coltrane,
D'Angelo,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare,
Maleditus Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wasted Youth,
The Last Poets,
DJ Sneak,
The Kinks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Wake,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
Eli Mardock,
The Dave Clark Five,
Audionom,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav,
Banda Bassotti,
Jawbox,
The Young Rascals,
Davy DMX,
Kool Moe Dee,
Anakelly,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Reuben Wilson,
Anthony Braxton,
Scan 7,
FM Einheit,
Intrusion,
Sugar Minott,
Gichy Dan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
EPMD,
The Toasters,
Terrestrial Tones,
R.M.O.,
Outsiders,
Isaac Hayes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Misunderstood,
Mo-Dettes,
Yaz,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.