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 Comoros and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alarm Clocks to the jazz 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe 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 theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Suburban Knight,
Rakim,
Fela Kuti,
Inner City,
Marmalade,
Todd Terry,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Erykah Badu,
The Music Machine,
Amon Düül II,
Slave,
Cymande,
Blancmange,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liliput,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Motions,
Popol Vuh,
Boredoms,
The Martian,
Moby Grape,
Max Romeo,
Todd Rundgren,
Brass Construction,
Surgeon,
Section 25,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
June of 44,
In Retrospect,
Connie Case,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cameo,
The Remains,
Sun City Girls,
Whodini,
Marvin Gaye,
Technova,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Radiohead,
Brick,
Donald Byrd,
The United States of America,
La Düsseldorf,
Fad Gadget,
cv313,
The Fuzztones,
The Saints,
The New Christs,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
Lucky Dragons,
The Modern Lovers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.