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 Algeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Görl to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Smog,
Roxette,
Intrusion,
Rosa Yemen,
Archie Shepp,
Cymande,
The Grass Roots,
Rakim,
Jacques Brel,
The Neon Judgement,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
New Age Steppers,
Con Funk Shun,
The Pretty Things,
The Trojans,
Guru Guru,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
Ohio Players,
The Knickerbockers,
Fela Kuti,
The Star Department,
Heaven 17,
Matthew Halsall,
Goldenarms,
Wasted Youth,
The Standells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alton Ellis,
The Fall,
MDC,
Warsaw,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
The Martian,
The Sonics,
Matthew Bourne,
Minutemen,
Black Sheep,
Nick Fraelich,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric B and Rakim,
L. Decosne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerri Chandler,
The Litter,
Trumans Water,
Hardrive,
Josef K,
Royal Trux,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roger Hodgson,
Average White Band,
Todd Terry,
Scientists,
The Saints,
Lightning Bolt,
Barbara Tucker,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drive Like Jehu,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.