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 Mauritania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Boredoms to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Grandmaster Flash,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Green,
The Durutti Column,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yusef Lateef,
Icehouse,
Aural Exciters,
The Doors,
Audionom,
The Human League,
Black Sheep,
the Bar-Kays,
The Last Poets,
Radiohead,
The Sonics,
Donald Byrd,
Stockholm Monsters,
Subhumans,
Glambeats Corp.,
The J.B.'s,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Moon,
The Techniques,
Davy DMX,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dennis Brown,
The Motions,
Make Up,
Groovy Waters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sällskapet,
Ultra Naté,
Kerri Chandler,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
The Walker Brothers,
Darondo,
The Martian,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
Mad Mike,
Newcleus,
The Misunderstood,
Amon Düül,
Gabor Szabo,
Surgeon,
Banda Bassotti,
The Selecter,
Rites of Spring,
Mark Hollis,
Jawbox,
Chris & Cosey,
Eli Mardock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ponytail,
Alice Coltrane,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.