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 Malaysia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes 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 Spandau Ballet to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Lungfish,
The Red Krayola,
Trumans Water,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Chris & Cosey,
Kurtis Blow,
Q and Not U,
Pharoah Sanders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
CMW,
Pylon,
Al Stewart,
The Blues Magoos,
Half Japanese,
The Angels of Light,
MC5,
MDC,
Nirvana,
Desert Stars,
Yellowson,
Shoche,
D'Angelo,
The Monochrome Set,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Connie Case,
Fluxion,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
The Barracudas,
Au Pairs,
Basic Channel,
Fugazi,
World's Most,
Infiniti,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Banda Bassotti,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Magazine,
Barrington Levy,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids,
Wings,
Joe Smooth,
Eden Ahbez,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
The Cowsills,
Toni Rubio,
The Kinks,
Pagans,
Donny Hathaway,
Blake Baxter,
Underground Resistance,
The Sound,
R.M.O.,
Fat Boys,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.