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 Argentina and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Parry Music to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Lucky Dragons,
Accadde A,
Moby Grape,
Minutemen,
Bad Manners,
Crime,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Moss Icon,
Aaron Thompson,
Circle Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Minor Threat,
Warsaw,
Alice Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fatback Band,
Erasure,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Star Department,
Andrew Hill,
Tom Boy,
Von Mondo,
Harmonia,
FM Einheit,
Scientists,
DJ Style,
Simply Red,
New Order,
Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Holt,
Black Flag,
Motorama,
Idris Muhammad,
Section 25,
Bang On A Can,
Pharoah Sanders,
Y Pants,
James White and The Blacks,
Nas,
Sound Behaviour,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
Pulsallama,
Peter and Kerry,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
The Leaves,
Henry Cow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bootsy Collins,
Quadrant,
Rakim,
Spoonie Gee,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.