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 Grenada and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Popol Vuh to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-101,
The Blues Magoos,
Gichy Dan,
The Cramps,
The Detroit Cobras,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange,
The Happenings,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Essential Logic,
Chrome,
Rekid,
Kerrie Biddell,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sound Behaviour,
Q and Not U,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lindisfarne,
Jerry's Kids,
The Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Derrick Morgan,
Alton Ellis,
Malaria!,
The Divine Comedy,
The Associates,
Man Parrish,
The Music Machine,
Make Up,
Anthony Braxton,
Al Stewart,
Harmonia,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ituana,
KRS-One,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Nas,
Bad Manners,
Big Daddy Kane,
Agitation Free,
Joyce Sims,
Vainqueur,
The Searchers,
Zero Boys,
EPMD,
John Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Last Poets,
Scion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blake Baxter,
The Gun Club,
China Crisis,
Thee Headcoats,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.