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 Honduras and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
PIL,
Talk Talk,
Bootsy Collins,
David Bowie,
The Blues Magoos,
Lyres,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Outsiders,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronan,
Brand Nubian,
Fad Gadget,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Au Pairs,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
This Heat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Pus,
Quantec,
Joy Division,
Henry Cow,
Trumans Water,
Rosa Yemen,
Scientists,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Easy Going,
Deepchord,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eurythmics,
Buzzcocks,
Anthony Braxton,
DJ Sneak,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
UT,
The Raincoats,
Visage,
The Cure,
The Moleskins,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Todd Rundgren,
T.S.O.L.,
Section 25,
Kaleidoscope,
Radio Birdman,
Duran Duran,
Maurizio,
Anakelly,
Alphaville,
Country Teasers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
F. McDonald,
Toni Rubio,
Zero Boys,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.