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 Solomon Islands and from New York.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Byrd to the punk 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Make Up,
Unrelated Segments,
kango's stein massive,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Soul Sonic Force,
L. Decosne,
Joy Division,
Soft Machine,
New Age Steppers,
June Days,
Marc Almond,
Juan Atkins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Beau Brummels,
Barry Ungar,
Rekid,
Gichy Dan,
Kas Product,
X-Ray Spex,
Amon Düül II,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pole,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blake Baxter,
The Star Department,
Faust,
Slick Rick,
New York Dolls,
Echospace,
Derrick Morgan,
John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Anakelly,
Suburban Knight,
The Sisters of Mercy,
T. Rex,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mr. Review,
The Dirtbombs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Youth Brigade,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fall,
Sam Rivers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Hood,
Tom Boy,
Aural Exciters,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Birthday Party,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.