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 Taiwan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Junior Murvin to the grunge 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
The Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Minutemen,
Blossom Toes,
Pagans,
Monolake,
Maurizio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Interpol,
Roxy Music,
Pylon,
Malaria!,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sam Rivers,
The Moody Blues,
Hasil Adkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Max Romeo,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxette,
The Beau Brummels,
Surgeon,
The Five Americans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Parrish,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
The Monks,
Magazine,
The Star Department,
Unrelated Segments,
Ten City,
Eddi Front,
Gichy Dan,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The American Breed,
Swell Maps,
Archie Shepp,
EPMD,
Eurythmics,
Gang Green,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Das Ding,
LL Cool J,
The Slits,
Isaac Hayes,
Bad Manners,
The Blues Magoos,
The Motions,
Connie Case,
Tubeway Army,
the Bar-Kays,
Fugazi,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nick Fraelich,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.