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 Turkey and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 David Axelrod 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Cheater Slicks,
Moebius,
The Mojo Men,
The Martian,
The Real Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Organ,
The Selecter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magazine,
Fluxion,
Chris Corsano,
Khruangbin,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxy Music,
La Düsseldorf,
Oblivians,
The Moody Blues,
Ronan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eurythmics,
Adolescents,
New York Dolls,
Scientists,
In Retrospect,
Depeche Mode,
Chrome,
The Tremeloes,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Christie,
The Misunderstood,
Quando Quango,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
the Normal,
The Star Department,
The Zeros,
Glambeats Corp.,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Buckinghams,
Aaron Thompson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
Sarah Menescal,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Whodini,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Essential Logic,
Charles Mingus,
D'Angelo,
Roxette,
Qualms,
Terry Callier,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.