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 Luxembourg and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Alphaville to the rap 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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Holt,
Outsiders,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Starr,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Procol Harum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dual Sessions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Slick Rick,
Eric Copeland,
Pulsallama,
Cheater Slicks,
The Neon Judgement,
Isaac Hayes,
Index,
The Angels of Light,
Piero Umiliani,
The Divine Comedy,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Unwound,
Ohio Players,
The Star Department,
Scion,
Country Teasers,
The Sound,
Ultravox,
Nico,
Byron Stingily,
Sun City Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Jawbox,
The Tremeloes,
ABBA,
Wolf Eyes,
Harry Pussy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Pretty Things,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Pop Group,
EPMD,
Matthew Bourne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sun Ra,
The Doors,
Marshall Jefferson,
Con Funk Shun,
Josef K,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.