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 Lesotho and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Al Stewart to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fugazi,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Marc Almond,
June Days,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside,
Faust,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lightning Bolt,
Reuben Wilson,
Whodini,
Cymande,
The Pop Group,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Cale,
Ponytail,
Radiohead,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Mills,
Audionom,
Bobby Sherman,
The Divine Comedy,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
Faraquet,
Mad Mike,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Television Personalities,
Chris Corsano,
Chrome,
Alice Coltrane,
DNA,
kango's stein massive,
Aural Exciters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aloha Tigers,
Blake Baxter,
Anakelly,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Barrington Levy,
Stetsasonic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sonic Youth,
Moss Icon,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sonny Sharrock,
Carl Craig,
Heaven 17,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Mark Hollis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Connie Case,
Harpers Bizarre,
Joensuu 1685,
Animal Collective,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.