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 Iceland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deadbeat to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soulsonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fire Engines,
The Black Dice,
Infiniti,
Neu!,
Peter & Gordon,
Fugazi,
Girls At Our Best!,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
The Gun Club,
Alton Ellis,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Slits,
Black Moon,
Easy Going,
the Soft Cell,
The Mojo Men,
The Index,
Banda Bassotti,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jacob Miller,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sonic Youth,
Altered Images,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Television,
Marmalade,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Evens,
Hoover,
Thompson Twins,
Howard Jones,
Nick Fraelich,
Lakeside,
Y Pants,
Ultimate Spinach,
The United States of America,
Carl Craig,
The Moody Blues,
The Red Krayola,
The Kinks,
Faust,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
Blancmange,
Popol Vuh,
FM Einheit,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Blues Magoos,
Sandy B,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Real Kids,
Suicide,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.