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 Canada and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Detroit Cobras to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a theremin 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 rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
One Last Wish,
The Raincoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Easy Going,
Accadde A,
Bobby Sherman,
Angry Samoans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pylon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kas Product,
Delta 5,
Traffic Nightmare,
Public Enemy,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Robert Wyatt,
Symarip,
The J.B.'s,
Television,
Urselle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan,
Byron Stingily,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Moon,
Simply Red,
Soft Cell,
Q65,
The Red Krayola,
Fort Wilson Riot,
In Retrospect,
The Offenders,
Isaac Hayes,
Fugazi,
the Human League,
Scott Walker,
DNA,
Matthew Bourne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quadrant,
Mandrill,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moebius,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
Sam Rivers,
Minnie Riperton,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
Fatback Band,
John Foxx,
Bang On A Can,
Dual Sessions,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fire Engines,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.