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 Portugal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Severed Heads to the disco 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Q and Not U,
Silicon Teens,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Angry Samoans,
The Count Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Martian,
Massinfluence,
Cecil Taylor,
Charles Mingus,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
John Holt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Banda Bassotti,
La Düsseldorf,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Spoonie Gee,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers,
Tres Demented,
Rosa Yemen,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius,
Desert Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Todd Terry,
Sam Rivers,
Chrome,
Judy Mowatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Litter,
The Busters,
Das Ding,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Swans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed,
The United States of America,
Althea and Donna,
Frankie Knuckles,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
Model 500,
Connie Case,
Derrick Morgan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mission of Burma,
Gichy Dan,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.