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 Senegal and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Neil Young to the rap 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
The Real Kids,
The Evens,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Visage,
The Black Dice,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
The Golliwogs,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
DJ Sneak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
John Coltrane,
Dave Gahan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marcia Griffiths,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Half Japanese,
Harry Pussy,
Minor Threat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The New Christs,
Chrome,
Cecil Taylor,
The Grass Roots,
T.S.O.L.,
The Knickerbockers,
Talk Talk,
New Age Steppers,
FM Einheit,
The United States of America,
The Divine Comedy,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fortunes,
Joe Finger,
Joensuu 1685,
Bang On A Can,
Average White Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Minutemen,
The Count Five,
R.M.O.,
June of 44,
The Smiths,
World's Most,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Gichy Dan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rakim,
The Fugs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slits,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Roger Hodgson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.