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 Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin 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 Fela Kuti to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Scratch Acid,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Last Poets,
Connie Case,
Hasil Adkins,
10cc,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lakeside,
Minny Pops,
Junior Murvin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fugs,
The Evens,
The Litter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flash Fearless,
Absolute Body Control,
Lou Christie,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Inner City,
Josef K,
Pulsallama,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
AZ,
Altered Images,
The Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
MC5,
Johnny Osbourne,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Laurel Aitken,
The Misunderstood,
Average White Band,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
Warsaw,
Skriet,
Eve St. Jones,
Sister Nancy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus,
the Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
John Foxx,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
D'Angelo,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.