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 Cape Verde and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mandrill to the techno 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
The Angels of Light,
Grauzone,
Nik Kershaw,
the Soft Cell,
Erykah Badu,
Cameo,
Morten Harket,
Patti Smith,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jacob Miller,
Circle Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Camouflage,
Andrew Hill,
Sex Pistols,
Erasure,
Hoover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Carl Craig,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eli Mardock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
The Doobie Brothers,
Parry Music,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Seeds,
Clear Light,
Black Sheep,
James White and The Blacks,
Shuggie Otis,
Hashim,
Organ,
Graham Central Station,
The Divine Comedy,
Rosa Yemen,
Ten City,
T. Rex,
Banda Bassotti,
Joey Negro,
Depeche Mode,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
L. Decosne,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Underground Resistance,
Q and Not U,
Massinfluence,
Roxette,
Pantaleimon,
KRS-One,
The American Breed,
Anthony Braxton,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pole,
The Monks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.