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 Guyana and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 David Bowie to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
The Selecter,
X-101,
Kool Moe Dee,
Groovy Waters,
Intrusion,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fela Kuti,
The Birthday Party,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Agent Orange,
Fluxion,
Saccharine Trust,
Arcadia,
Los Fastidios,
Clear Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Raincoats,
Procol Harum,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Loose Ends,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Star Department,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Saints,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rosa Yemen,
Livin' Joy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Faraquet,
Matthew Halsall,
June Days,
the Fania All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Osbourne,
Main Source,
Traffic Nightmare,
La Düsseldorf,
Sight & Sound,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lindisfarne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doors,
Royal Trux,
Juan Atkins,
Little Man,
The Pretty Things,
Darondo,
Depeche Mode,
the Sonics,
Tubeway Army,
Pulsallama,
The Stooges,
a-ha,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.