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 Ethiopia and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Television to the rock 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
The Alarm Clocks,
The United States of America,
The Black Dice,
Underground Resistance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Inner City,
The Real Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
JFA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Infiniti,
Flamin' Groovies,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ludus,
The Knickerbockers,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Vogues,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
The Trojans,
Pylon,
Sonny Sharrock,
KRS-One,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pet Shop Boys,
The American Breed,
Lalann,
Pierre Henry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Hardrive,
Clear Light,
Lungfish,
Lightning Bolt,
MDC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Dead C,
Section 25,
Brothers Johnson,
Archie Shepp,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
Alton Ellis,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mojo Men,
EPMD,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
Danielle Patucci,
Funky Four + One,
Johnny Clarke,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.