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 Vietnam and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dave Gahan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
The Slits,
The Cramps,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Faraquet,
Albert Ayler,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Names,
R.M.O.,
Swell Maps,
The Gories,
Todd Terry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sister Nancy,
The Victims,
Idris Muhammad,
Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Sarah Menescal,
Television Personalities,
The Gap Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Christie,
Reagan Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Ice-T,
Wings,
Graham Central Station,
Pole,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Junior Murvin,
Outsiders,
Sandy B,
The Monochrome Set,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
Severed Heads,
Crash Course in Science,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Motorama,
Cheater Slicks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Unwound,
Josef K,
The Stooges,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Amon Düül II,
Pantytec,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wire,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oblivians,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joensuu 1685,
Susan Cadogan,
Trumans Water,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.