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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bill Near to the jazz 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Andrew Hill,
Erasure,
The Last Poets,
Darondo,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Crispian St. Peters,
New Age Steppers,
Sex Pistols,
Bad Manners,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Graham Central Station,
Agent Orange,
Neu!,
Radio Birdman,
Con Funk Shun,
Deepchord,
Whodini,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeru the Damaja,
Porter Ricks,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Womack,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moleskins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fat Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pere Ubu,
Pagans,
Matthew Bourne,
Scrapy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
Sound Behaviour,
Qualms,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Y Pants,
Japan,
Fatback Band,
Henry Cow,
Ronan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Music Machine,
Drexciya,
The Black Dice,
Adolescents,
Lindisfarne,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.