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 Grenada and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sound Behaviour to the techno 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Kerri Chandler,
The Blues Magoos,
Magma,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Accadde A,
Moebius,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
the Association,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lower 48,
Gang Starr,
Sixth Finger,
The Cramps,
Brand Nubian,
Joe Finger,
Bobby Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skaos,
Bluetip,
June of 44,
Public Enemy,
Second Layer,
Severed Heads,
Fela Kuti,
Unwound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Martian,
Tres Demented,
Young Marble Giants,
The Last Poets,
Max Romeo,
The Monks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
T.S.O.L.,
Nick Fraelich,
Aswad,
H. Thieme,
Mark Hollis,
Nils Olav,
Swell Maps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dark Day,
Drexciya,
Tim Buckley,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barbara Tucker,
Chris Corsano,
Angry Samoans,
Tubeway Army,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.