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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bluetip to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb 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 synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Red Krayola,
T. Rex,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eurythmics,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
a-ha,
Nik Kershaw,
Mandrill,
The Beau Brummels,
B.T. Express,
Black Moon,
The Count Five,
Don Cherry,
Albert Ayler,
Flipper,
Loose Ends,
Tommy Roe,
Pantytec,
Quantec,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wings,
Fear,
The Sonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Freddie Wadling,
Mantronix,
Sexual Harrassment,
Camouflage,
The Shadows of Knight,
Motorama,
Isaac Hayes,
Deepchord,
L. Decosne,
Magazine,
Suicide,
Max Romeo,
Joensuu 1685,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Vainqueur,
Scrapy,
The Slackers,
Andrew Hill,
The Star Department,
K-Klass,
CMW,
Supertramp,
Marc Almond,
Rosa Yemen,
Minnie Riperton,
Sixth Finger,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Depeche Mode,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.