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 Mongolia and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Beasts of Bourbon 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
Mad Mike,
The Fuzztones,
Barclay James Harvest,
Trumans Water,
Todd Terry,
Tim Buckley,
The Happenings,
Whodini,
Roxette,
David McCallum,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
Grauzone,
Barry Ungar,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Country Teasers,
L. Decosne,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
Hoover,
The Moody Blues,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Smiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Public Enemy,
Sex Pistols,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jerry's Kids,
Motorama,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flipper,
John Coltrane,
David Bowie,
MDC,
Bobby Sherman,
Sparks,
Japan,
The Durutti Column,
Camouflage,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
The Pretty Things,
The Vogues,
Khruangbin,
LL Cool J,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Television Personalities,
Maleditus Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brass Construction,
The Music Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
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.