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 Brazil and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mummies to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba 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 oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grey Daturas,
Chrome,
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
R.M.O.,
Young Marble Giants,
Massinfluence,
The Leaves,
Slave,
Soulsonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lightning Bolt,
The Skatalites,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
New York Dolls,
Brick,
The Velvet Underground,
Banda Bassotti,
Ronnie Foster,
Rekid,
Deadbeat,
The Flesh Eaters,
Little Man,
Bush Tetras,
Inner City,
Anthony Braxton,
Absolute Body Control,
Derrick May,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lakeside,
Radiohead,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arcadia,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Stooges,
Echospace,
Aloha Tigers,
Bad Manners,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Underground Resistance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Make Up,
Stiv Bators,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker,
DJ Style,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
Camouflage,
Mars,
Sister Nancy,
The Gap Band,
B.T. Express,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.