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 Maldives and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Au Pairs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
The Busters,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Public Enemy,
Kaleidoscope,
Blossom Toes,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Spandau Ballet,
a-ha,
Scan 7,
Wolf Eyes,
Al Stewart,
Letta Mbulu,
Drexciya,
The Index,
Wally Richardson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Germs,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Rufus Thomas,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
X-Ray Spex,
Young Marble Giants,
Television,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Pretty Things,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Donny Hathaway,
Pharoah Sanders,
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crash Course in Science,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Brothers Johnson,
X-101,
A Certain Ratio,
Barbara Tucker,
Bang On A Can,
The Alarm Clocks,
Chris & Cosey,
Roy Ayers,
Procol Harum,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Silicon Teens,
David Axelrod,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Technova,
John Holt,
Slick Rick,
The Raincoats,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Ohio Players,
Deepchord,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.