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 Paraguay and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Shoche to the crunk 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro 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 linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Warsaw,
T. Rex,
Reuben Wilson,
Surgeon,
Heaven 17,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Dirtbombs,
Morten Harket,
Goldenarms,
The Velvet Underground,
Reagan Youth,
Darondo,
Nico,
The Divine Comedy,
Eve St. Jones,
The Invisible,
Crash Course in Science,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
John Holt,
Jacques Brel,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Joe Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Certain Ratio,
The Offenders,
The Toasters,
Yellowson,
Radiohead,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Hoover,
Second Layer,
Pantaleimon,
Eddi Front,
The Leaves,
Porter Ricks,
Eli Mardock,
Chrome,
Lakeside,
The Gun Club,
Johnny Osbourne,
Metal Thangz,
Deepchord,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Görl,
Urselle,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mark Hollis,
Bush Tetras,
MC5,
Roger Hodgson,
Newcleus,
Skaos,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Infiniti,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.