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 Bahrain and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Shuggie Otis to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Khruangbin,
John Holt,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Funky Four + One,
Maurizio,
Procol Harum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Sonics,
Al Stewart,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
FM Einheit,
The Real Kids,
LL Cool J,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scrapy,
Howard Jones,
Nirvana,
Zero Boys,
Sugar Minott,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Five Americans,
Dave Gahan,
The Shadows of Knight,
Charles Mingus,
The Monochrome Set,
Josef K,
The Trojans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mantronix,
Flipper,
Blake Baxter,
The Cure,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Associates,
The Kinks,
DNA,
Skaos,
Circle Jerks,
The American Breed,
China Crisis,
Glenn Branca,
Soulsonic Force,
Frankie Knuckles,
Babytalk,
48th St. Collective,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare,
The Pretty Things,
Altered Images,
Flash Fearless,
Eve St. Jones,
The Leaves,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.