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 Kazakhstan and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Donald Byrd to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
June of 44,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wasted Youth,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fear,
Albert Ayler,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Delon & Dalcan,
Don Cherry,
Leonard Cohen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
U.S. Maple,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Foxx,
X-101,
DNA,
Idris Muhammad,
Blossom Toes,
Pylon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Blancmange,
The Selecter,
One Last Wish,
Dave Gahan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Smoke,
The Standells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Frankie Knuckles,
Boogie Down Productions,
Popol Vuh,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aaron Thompson,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
Liliput,
The Cure,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
The Offenders,
Television Personalities,
Kerri Chandler,
Morten Harket,
The Zeros,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Terry,
Blake Baxter,
The Toasters,
Ken Boothe,
the Normal,
Black Moon,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.