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 Mauritania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a marimba 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Whodini,
The Trojans,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
The Tremeloes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
the Association,
Lungfish,
Young Marble Giants,
Bad Manners,
Easy Going,
The Count Five,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Names,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Walker Brothers,
Dead Boys,
PIL,
The J.B.'s,
Amazonics,
The Toasters,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
Nico,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Kinks,
FM Einheit,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalann,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q and Not U,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust,
The Human League,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Intrusion,
Franke,
The Vogues,
Royal Trux,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Sherman,
Morten Harket,
Siglo XX,
Radiohead,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Foxx,
the Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Dawn Penn,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blake Baxter,
Joy Division,
One Last Wish,
Rapeman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.