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 Tunisia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Blues Magoos to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 spring reverb and an organ 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sällskapet,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Eve St. Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ten City,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Stooges,
Quantec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Gap Band,
Scan 7,
Eric Dolphy,
Scientists,
June Days,
Icehouse,
The Tremeloes,
Lakeside,
Rekid,
LL Cool J,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mandrill,
Aswad,
F. McDonald,
The Trojans,
New Age Steppers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantaleimon,
Accadde A,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
Nik Kershaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ossler,
Blancmange,
Steve Hackett,
The Barracudas,
The Young Rascals,
Minny Pops,
Massinfluence,
Von Mondo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Move,
John Lydon,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Mojo Men,
Faust,
Robert Görl,
The Gun Club,
Rufus Thomas,
Maurizio,
Byron Stingily,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.