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 Australia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Archie Shepp to the disco 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All 10cc tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Five Americans,
Gichy Dan,
The Leaves,
Q and Not U,
Gang Green,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Camouflage,
Niagra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Parry Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Franke,
Davy DMX,
AZ,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Warsaw,
Black Pus,
The Pretty Things,
Crispy Ambulance,
Index,
Max Romeo,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
The Motions,
Johnny Clarke,
Sunsets and Hearts,
David Bowie,
Marine Girls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Martian,
Spandau Ballet,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
Nas,
Trumans Water,
Blancmange,
Derrick Morgan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Albert Ayler,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Saints,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Ohio Players,
Pagans,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
Aural Exciters,
Moby Grape,
The Standells,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.