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 Switzerland and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Make Up to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Maurizio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
Bobby Womack,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minny Pops,
X-101,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grauzone,
The Blues Magoos,
Dawn Penn,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Martian,
The Fall,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Red Krayola,
the Normal,
Bill Near,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
Gang Gang Dance,
T. Rex,
Tommy Roe,
Goldenarms,
Whodini,
The Smoke,
Sex Pistols,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quantec,
Boredoms,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Thee Headcoats,
Ronan,
Black Moon,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
Q and Not U,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Surgeon,
The Sonics,
Arcadia,
Brick,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
PIL,
Aswad,
MC5,
The Fire Engines,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Byrd,
Junior Murvin,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.