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 Hungary and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer 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 clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
The Busters,
Sound Behaviour,
Basic Channel,
The Stooges,
Warsaw,
Hoover,
Sonic Youth,
Alton Ellis,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vladislav Delay,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ludus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mummies,
Scientists,
Bill Wells,
Bronski Beat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yellowson,
Nirvana,
Idris Muhammad,
The Pretty Things,
Fatback Band,
Magma,
Yaz,
Depeche Mode,
The Blackbyrds,
Supertramp,
Visage,
Eden Ahbez,
The Smiths,
Faust,
Mission of Burma,
Cymande,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Wyatt,
Brick,
Youth Brigade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glenn Branca,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Leaves,
Slick Rick,
Groovy Waters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Man Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
Con Funk Shun,
Unwound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche,
Camberwell Now,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scott Walker,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.