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 Singapore and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Pop Group to the punk 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord 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 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?
Bootsy Collins,
The Grass Roots,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Junior Murvin,
Urselle,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Unwound,
Main Source,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Godley & Creme,
KRS-One,
The Blues Magoos,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Germs,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
Robert Hood,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Pretty Things,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wasted Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
Nirvana,
Glenn Branca,
Y Pants,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delta 5,
Tears for Fears,
The Barracudas,
The Names,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The New Christs,
The Searchers,
In Retrospect,
8 Eyed Spy,
Juan Atkins,
David Bowie,
Negative Approach,
Dawn Penn,
Thompson Twins,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Fortunes,
Nas,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sex Pistols,
John Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Shuggie Otis,
Ossler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crash Course in Science,
The Happenings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hardrive,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.