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 New Zealand and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 guitar 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 Gichy Dan to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faraquet,
The Fortunes,
Lalann,
Sun City Girls,
Simply Red,
Charles Mingus,
Gichy Dan,
The Offenders,
The Red Krayola,
Aural Exciters,
Brick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Beau Brummels,
The Black Dice,
Lower 48,
Wolf Eyes,
Barbara Tucker,
Alice Coltrane,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sandy B,
La Düsseldorf,
Marvin Gaye,
The Invisible,
Barrington Levy,
Symarip,
Cymande,
the Normal,
Pole,
Ice-T,
Rosa Yemen,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Steve Hackett,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
Roger Hodgson,
Pylon,
Mo-Dettes,
Index,
Robert Görl,
Crooked Eye,
Chrome,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
Adolescents,
48th St. Collective,
Newcleus,
Derrick May,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
Agent Orange,
Idris Muhammad,
The Evens,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Human League,
Wings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rod Modell,
Bootsy Collins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.