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 Bulgaria and from Salvador.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marine Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Joensuu 1685. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes 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 organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grey Daturas,
The Black Dice,
The Standells,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Coltrane,
Pere Ubu,
Minny Pops,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Sheep,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dave Clark Five,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Shoche,
Boogie Down Productions,
Joy Division,
The Techniques,
Blossom Toes,
Dennis Brown,
Michelle Simonal,
Neu!,
Jesper Dahlback,
Janne Schatter,
John Holt,
Audionom,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
The Fall,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonic Youth,
Cymande,
The Names,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Shadows of Knight,
LL Cool J,
Ronnie Foster,
Sight & Sound,
Yaz,
Gabor Szabo,
Deakin,
Mission of Burma,
Eve St. Jones,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faraquet,
Rod Modell,
Nirvana,
Hot Snakes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ken Boothe,
Brand Nubian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yazoo,
R.M.O.,
Sandy B,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Animal Collective,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.