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 Belize and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New York Dolls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Motions,
Gang Green,
Nas,
Jacob Miller,
The Blackbyrds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grauzone,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angry Samoans,
Maurizio,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultra Naté,
the Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
Magma,
Ohio Players,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harry Pussy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brass Construction,
Sam Rivers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Flamin' Groovies,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Anthony Braxton,
Minutemen,
Bronski Beat,
Crime,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sonics,
The Human League,
Connie Case,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Peter and Kerry,
KRS-One,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scratch Acid,
Porter Ricks,
Grey Daturas,
Jawbox,
Rhythm & Sound,
cv313,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joy Division,
Colin Newman,
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.