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 Colombia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the grime 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Motions,
H. Thieme,
Jacob Miller,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rakim,
June of 44,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
EPMD,
Scott Walker,
The Moody Blues,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nick Fraelich,
Alice Coltrane,
Yazoo,
The Angels of Light,
Pussy Galore,
Accadde A,
John Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pretty Things,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Gabor Szabo,
Roxy Music,
These Immortal Souls,
The Monochrome Set,
The J.B.'s,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Germs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moebius,
The Martian,
Marmalade,
Siglo XX,
Roy Ayers,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Boredoms,
Mo-Dettes,
The Tremeloes,
Moss Icon,
The Fuzztones,
David McCallum,
CMW,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scan 7,
Gong,
The Victims,
The Walker Brothers,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
ABBA,
Sällskapet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.