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 Montenegro and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 One Last Wish to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Brick,
Babytalk,
Albert Ayler,
FM Einheit,
Severed Heads,
Rakim,
Theoretical Girls,
The Kinks,
The Martian,
Altered Images,
La Düsseldorf,
New Order,
China Crisis,
Funkadelic,
Isaac Hayes,
Letta Mbulu,
Henry Cow,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
Aural Exciters,
Black Flag,
Ronnie Foster,
Slave,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Basic Channel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moss Icon,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bizarre Inc.,
Archie Shepp,
Joe Smooth,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Bourne,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Gong,
Johnny Clarke,
the Normal,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Rekid,
Outsiders,
Eurythmics,
Amon Düül,
Crooked Eye,
Panda Bear,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
Tomorrow,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jacques Brel,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy Collins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fad Gadget,
Quantec,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.