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 Turkmenistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Joensuu 1685 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 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 guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Neon Judgement,
Brothers Johnson,
Glenn Branca,
the Association,
Dual Sessions,
David Axelrod,
Parry Music,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Henry Cow,
The Buckinghams,
Talk Talk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warsaw,
Erasure,
Brick,
Sandy B,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
Moss Icon,
Marine Girls,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Hashim,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hardrive,
Joe Smooth,
Sun Ra,
U.S. Maple,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yazoo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Reagan Youth,
Black Flag,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aural Exciters,
JFA,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
48th St. Collective,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nico,
Malaria!,
the Bar-Kays,
Duran Duran,
Funky Four + One,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.