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 Sudan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 the Sonics to the grunge 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 Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Arab on Radar,
Procol Harum,
Joyce Sims,
Icehouse,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spandau Ballet,
Bluetip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Donald Byrd,
Ituana,
Scientists,
Quadrant,
This Heat,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gun Club,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Piero Umiliani,
Peter & Gordon,
Pierre Henry,
Model 500,
Swans,
Tim Buckley,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Holt,
Moby Grape,
Glenn Branca,
Soft Cell,
Sugar Minott,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Slackers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cal Tjader,
Cecil Taylor,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Star Department,
the Normal,
Ultra Naté,
Magma,
Khruangbin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Starr,
Toni Rubio,
Qualms,
Main Source,
Brick,
Slick Rick,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.