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 Somalia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Grass Roots to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rapeman,
Niagra,
Gang Gang Dance,
U.S. Maple,
Minor Threat,
Scion,
Boredoms,
Black Pus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
David Bowie,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
R.M.O.,
The Associates,
Erykah Badu,
Bauhaus,
Marvin Gaye,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gabor Szabo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-101,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
The Star Department,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Babytalk,
Todd Rundgren,
Jerry's Kids,
Mad Mike,
OOIOO,
Cheater Slicks,
The Knickerbockers,
Dave Gahan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Das Ding,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Magma,
Harpers Bizarre,
Electric Prunes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Velvet Underground,
The Moody Blues,
Cameo,
The Monks,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Hot Snakes,
Godley & Creme,
The Flesh Eaters,
The J.B.'s,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Unwound,
Quantec,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.