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 South Africa and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Lalann to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fugazi,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mojo Men,
Babytalk,
Angry Samoans,
X-101,
The Toasters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fugs,
Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Second Layer,
Archie Shepp,
Essential Logic,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
Kaleidoscope,
Rosa Yemen,
Hot Snakes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Trojans,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Young Rascals,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rotary Connection,
Albert Ayler,
Charles Mingus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blake Baxter,
Altered Images,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T.S.O.L.,
Public Image Ltd.,
June of 44,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Martian,
Shuggie Otis,
The American Breed,
Todd Terry,
Eli Mardock,
The Flesh Eaters,
B.T. Express,
Maurizio,
Kenny Larkin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nik Kershaw,
Ice-T,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bang On A Can,
Malaria!,
Roy Ayers,
Nas,
T. Rex,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.