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 Singapore and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Flipper to the electroclash 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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Make Up record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Joensuu 1685,
Anakelly,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Circle Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Magma,
Theoretical Girls,
Faust,
The Remains,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mummies,
Tommy Roe,
Ronnie Foster,
Brand Nubian,
Pylon,
Talk Talk,
Parry Music,
Vainqueur,
Tropical Tobacco,
Little Man,
Eli Mardock,
The United States of America,
David Bowie,
Donald Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick Morgan,
Yusef Lateef,
Mad Mike,
Bad Manners,
Monolake,
Lungfish,
Zero Boys,
Au Pairs,
Minutemen,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Almond,
F. McDonald,
Nick Fraelich,
The Angels of Light,
Anthony Braxton,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Symarip,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Association,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
Boredoms,
Hashim,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Divine Comedy,
The Five Americans,
Harmonia,
Mission of Burma,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.