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 Laos and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Residents to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Sonics,
World's Most,
The Modern Lovers,
Todd Rundgren,
Urselle,
Avey Tare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
Subhumans,
Grauzone,
Marmalade,
Lakeside,
Gong,
Rekid,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Banda Bassotti,
The Gories,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Franke,
Hoover,
The Misunderstood,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Graham Central Station,
KRS-One,
The Smiths,
The Last Poets,
Sun City Girls,
Kaleidoscope,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Popol Vuh,
Kenny Larkin,
Joyce Sims,
Von Mondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Cell,
the Human League,
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
Lebanon Hanover,
Buzzcocks,
Wally Richardson,
Maurizio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Altered Images,
Nirvana,
The Monochrome Set,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
Warren Ellis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Slave,
The Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Dead Boys,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.