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 Belize and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 F. McDonald to the rock 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator 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 linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Jacques Brel,
Mr. Review,
Deadbeat,
Brothers Johnson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joey Negro,
Fat Boys,
Darondo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lou Christie,
Visage,
David Bowie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Human League,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Erykah Badu,
Cal Tjader,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q65,
Dead Boys,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
CMW,
Marmalade,
Circle Jerks,
Slick Rick,
cv313,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Womack,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim,
Derrick May,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Bananas,
Kerri Chandler,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Popol Vuh,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
The Fortunes,
Glambeats Corp.,
James White and The Blacks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Young Marble Giants,
Bronski Beat,
Thee Headcoats,
Minny Pops,
Cymande,
Alice Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.