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 Oman and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Bill Wells to the funk 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Ice-T,
Suburban Knight,
Index,
Sonny Sharrock,
Monks,
Black Moon,
cv313,
Janne Schatter,
The Sonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Terry Callier,
Sam Rivers,
Ponytail,
Quadrant,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Harmonia,
Glenn Branca,
Derrick Morgan,
Suicide,
Davy DMX,
The Dead C,
The Names,
Minnie Riperton,
The Golliwogs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
Boogie Down Productions,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Moby Grape,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Steve Hackett,
Bad Manners,
Technova,
The Sound,
Tomorrow,
The Smoke,
Isaac Hayes,
Quando Quango,
Hot Snakes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Hardrive,
Faraquet,
David Axelrod,
The Vogues,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Happenings,
Fear,
Boz Scaggs,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
X-102,
The Moody Blues,
Severed Heads,
Charles Mingus,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.