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 Macedonia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Peter and Kerry to the crunk 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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radio Birdman,
Amazonics,
Suburban Knight,
R.M.O.,
Easy Going,
Susan Cadogan,
Q and Not U,
The Motions,
Radiohead,
Cameo,
Infiniti,
Lou Christie,
Deadbeat,
Barbara Tucker,
Judy Mowatt,
Slave,
In Retrospect,
The Happenings,
Marmalade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
The United States of America,
Whodini,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
Porter Ricks,
The Cowsills,
Goldenarms,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Stooges,
The Star Department,
Basic Channel,
Brick,
Bob Dylan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Fluxion,
Nas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Max Romeo,
Erykah Badu,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Wyatt,
H. Thieme,
KRS-One,
Aloha Tigers,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
Agent Orange,
Con Funk Shun,
The Count Five,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gabor Szabo,
Chrome,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.