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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the crunk 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Last Poets,
Al Stewart,
Royal Trux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smoke,
Rites of Spring,
K-Klass,
The Tremeloes,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Lakeside,
Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Alison Limerick,
Ludus,
The Gap Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Radiohead,
The Blackbyrds,
Amon Düül,
Dual Sessions,
Index,
The Zeros,
Niagra,
Spoonie Gee,
Cheater Slicks,
Moby Grape,
Excepter,
Nas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Golliwogs,
Slick Rick,
Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Colin Newman,
The Gladiators,
Qualms,
Erykah Badu,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Q and Not U,
Boz Scaggs,
Wings,
Sun City Girls,
John Holt,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
Pharoah Sanders,
Massinfluence,
Max Romeo,
Rapeman,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.