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 Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Spoonie Gee to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Siglo XX,
James White and The Blacks,
Pole,
The Selecter,
Absolute Body Control,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Dark Day,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Holt,
Kenny Larkin,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tom Boy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Josef K,
Underground Resistance,
Hot Snakes,
Moebius,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sugar Minott,
EPMD,
Talk Talk,
Quadrant,
Aural Exciters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Electric Prunes,
Alton Ellis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Urselle,
Reagan Youth,
The Zeros,
Bang On A Can,
Spandau Ballet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Byrd,
The Grass Roots,
Bad Manners,
Vladislav Delay,
Soul II Soul,
Sun Ra,
Joensuu 1685,
The Knickerbockers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Johnny Clarke,
Heaven 17,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tommy Roe,
Oblivians,
Arcadia,
Altered Images,
La Düsseldorf,
Gong,
Circle Jerks,
Slick Rick,
In Retrospect,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.