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 Ukraine and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rock 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bill Wells,
Harry Pussy,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
Yellowson,
New York Dolls,
Quadrant,
Pussy Galore,
the Association,
Patti Smith,
Roy Ayers,
a-ha,
PIL,
Whodini,
Symarip,
Alice Coltrane,
Quando Quango,
The Martian,
Supertramp,
Sun City Girls,
The Skatalites,
Eric Dolphy,
The Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Moon,
Toni Rubio,
Vladislav Delay,
Henry Cow,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lyres,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Durutti Column,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
Unwound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes,
Aloha Tigers,
The Gap Band,
Gong,
Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Cameo,
Talk Talk,
Blancmange,
Black Pus,
David Bowie,
Das Ding,
Tommy Roe,
T.S.O.L.,
Simply Red,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tubeway Army,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.