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 Jamaica and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 Pussy Galore to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rufus Thomas,
Aaron Thompson,
Ludus,
The Happenings,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ten City,
The Music Machine,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Delta 5,
Black Sheep,
The Doors,
The Slackers,
Blossom Toes,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Soft Cell,
Johnny Clarke,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
Wally Richardson,
The Vogues,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-102,
Alphaville,
The Walker Brothers,
LL Cool J,
These Immortal Souls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nico,
Rakim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pere Ubu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Duran Duran,
Mary Jane Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Crash Course in Science,
Siglo XX,
Fugazi,
The Neon Judgement,
Smog,
Pagans,
Ohio Players,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Almond,
Bluetip,
The Victims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Slits,
Boredoms,
Supertramp,
Agent Orange,
Dennis Brown,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.