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 Estonia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brass Construction to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 mellotron and a marimba 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 linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Byron Stingily,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Minny Pops,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
The Wake,
DJ Sneak,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gun Club,
Parry Music,
Ultravox,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
The Durutti Column,
Bang On A Can,
The Kinks,
the Normal,
Matthew Bourne,
Chris Corsano,
Shuggie Otis,
Spandau Ballet,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Dead C,
Rapeman,
The Barracudas,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Prince Buster,
The Sonics,
The Standells,
Lower 48,
OOIOO,
The Searchers,
Radiohead,
Nas,
Barbara Tucker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
a-ha,
Soulsonic Force,
Mandrill,
Fluxion,
Eli Mardock,
cv313,
Vladislav Delay,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Lydon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kurtis Blow,
Niagra,
Gabor Szabo,
Tears for Fears,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kenny Larkin,
Main Source,
Andrew Hill,
Alton Ellis,
Public Enemy,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.