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 Liberia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angels of Light to the crunk 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes 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 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Au Pairs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
Mandrill,
Tomorrow,
Rites of Spring,
Moebius,
The Skatalites,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Masters at Work,
Guru Guru,
Tommy Roe,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Albert Ayler,
ABC,
The Martian,
Joey Negro,
Donny Hathaway,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Pus,
D'Angelo,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Bowie,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
U.S. Maple,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eric Dolphy,
Q65,
Liliput,
The Slackers,
EPMD,
Cameo,
Electric Prunes,
Eli Mardock,
Malaria!,
Cecil Taylor,
The Count Five,
The Saints,
Althea and Donna,
Roxy Music,
Wally Richardson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sam Rivers,
Gang of Four,
Sällskapet,
Quando Quango,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
Graham Central Station,
Eddi Front,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Al Stewart,
cv313,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Icehouse,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Stooges,
World's Most,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.