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 Slovenia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Joe Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Chrome,
Quadrant,
Nick Fraelich,
K-Klass,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sparks,
The Sound,
AZ,
Kool Moe Dee,
These Immortal Souls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Zapp,
Peter and Kerry,
Essential Logic,
Ultra Naté,
The Sonics,
Leonard Cohen,
Shuggie Otis,
Infiniti,
Tears for Fears,
Bill Near,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soulsonic Force,
Lower 48,
Electric Prunes,
Fear,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Piero Umiliani,
JFA,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Khruangbin,
Fat Boys,
X-101,
Marc Almond,
Youth Brigade,
Aloha Tigers,
Bob Dylan,
Parry Music,
Eric Dolphy,
Magma,
Gong,
Derrick Morgan,
James White and The Blacks,
Cameo,
The Fugs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Smoke,
T.S.O.L.,
DJ Sneak,
Bronski Beat,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
Sex Pistols,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.