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 Paraguay and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum 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 chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Brand Nubian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siglo XX,
Lou Christie,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Man Parrish,
Minutemen,
The Electric Prunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Frankie Knuckles,
Kaleidoscope,
The Music Machine,
Ten City,
Yaz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Nik Kershaw,
Eurythmics,
Zero Boys,
Mars,
Panda Bear,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rites of Spring,
Amazonics,
Clear Light,
Hashim,
The Slackers,
Harmonia,
Mandrill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Tom Boy,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Eli Mardock,
Jacques Brel,
The Monochrome Set,
U.S. Maple,
Pole,
Avey Tare,
Glenn Branca,
Make Up,
Wasted Youth,
Groovy Waters,
Jeff Mills,
Liliput,
Godley & Creme,
Stetsasonic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wire,
The Human League,
Quando Quango,
Los Fastidios,
Skriet,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Gong,
Aswad,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.