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 Croatia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar 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 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Black Dice,
Suburban Knight,
Yellowson,
Jacques Brel,
Ossler,
Josef K,
Dorothy Ashby,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dark Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers,
Scrapy,
Mr. Review,
Symarip,
Soul II Soul,
Can,
Gong,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joe Smooth,
Grauzone,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Steve Hackett,
Lower 48,
Kool Moe Dee,
Junior Murvin,
Rapeman,
Trumans Water,
Minny Pops,
Audionom,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
E-Dancer,
The Martian,
Faust,
Black Bananas,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ponytail,
The Sonics,
Skarface,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
Slick Rick,
Lakeside,
Lalo Schifrin,
Flash Fearless,
Dave Gahan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magma,
Todd Terry,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
Barry Ungar,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.