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 Romania and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dark Day to the disco 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Kenny Larkin,
World's Most,
Accadde A,
Man Parrish,
The Pretty Things,
F. McDonald,
Anthony Braxton,
Porter Ricks,
Moss Icon,
The Moody Blues,
Suicide,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Half Japanese,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
Patti Smith,
Lightning Bolt,
Sixth Finger,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cal Tjader,
Erasure,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Goldenarms,
The Slackers,
Cymande,
Dave Gahan,
The Real Kids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
ABBA,
Aswad,
David Bowie,
The Gap Band,
The Stooges,
Blancmange,
Howard Jones,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Steve Hackett,
Eric B and Rakim,
Basic Channel,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Move,
Livin' Joy,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang of Four,
48th St. Collective,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
DNA,
Funkadelic,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dirtbombs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Spoonie Gee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
10cc,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.