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 Bahamas and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Victims to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ 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 synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Sun City Girls,
ABC,
Gang Starr,
The Selecter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minny Pops,
a-ha,
Magma,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers,
The Offenders,
Pussy Galore,
Eric Dolphy,
Sixth Finger,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Gang of Four,
Marine Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jandek,
Swans,
Blake Baxter,
Aaron Thompson,
Popol Vuh,
The Pretty Things,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cecil Taylor,
Liliput,
Bob Dylan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Gladiators,
Pulsallama,
Sexual Harrassment,
Darondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
The New Christs,
Fugazi,
Tomorrow,
Arcadia,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alice Coltrane,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nas,
Brothers Johnson,
Eddi Front,
Absolute Body Control,
Rod Modell,
Joensuu 1685,
Shoche,
The Blackbyrds,
The Birthday Party,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.