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 Cape Verde and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Goldenarms 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All DeepChord presents Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Ten City,
The Toasters,
Mr. Review,
OOIOO,
Dorothy Ashby,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sister Nancy,
Moby Grape,
Gang Starr,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jeff Mills,
The Leaves,
Crash Course in Science,
The Shadows of Knight,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Adolescents,
Rhythm & Sound,
Scientists,
Delta 5,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
China Crisis,
Maleditus Sound,
Q65,
Cluster,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
ABBA,
Parry Music,
Porter Ricks,
Eric Dolphy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Idris Muhammad,
Panda Bear,
Magma,
Marmalade,
John Foxx,
Dave Gahan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Althea and Donna,
Pussy Galore,
Kerri Chandler,
Wire,
K-Klass,
Pagans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Basic Channel,
The Moleskins,
Tears for Fears,
Vainqueur,
Pere Ubu,
Moss Icon,
Young Marble Giants,
The Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.