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 Bulgaria and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sister Nancy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Faraquet,
Motorama,
Rakim,
The Victims,
Minutemen,
The Seeds,
Panda Bear,
Janne Schatter,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Icehouse,
Infiniti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eli Mardock,
Mission of Burma,
Royal Trux,
Bronski Beat,
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
Gabor Szabo,
The Slits,
Nirvana,
Marine Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
The Birthday Party,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Whodini,
The Offenders,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Dave Gahan,
LL Cool J,
Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
Robert Hood,
Soul Sonic Force,
Byron Stingily,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
Scientists,
Kurtis Blow,
the Human League,
Newcleus,
The Monochrome Set,
Toni Rubio,
Saccharine Trust,
Moebius,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Association,
The Buckinghams,
David Bowie,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.