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 Haiti and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum 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 World's Most to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a theremin 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Monolake,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ice-T,
David Bowie,
Eddi Front,
Deadbeat,
R.M.O.,
Gichy Dan,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roy Ayers,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cramps,
The Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gories,
Peter & Gordon,
Mr. Review,
Ken Boothe,
Easy Going,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Blues Magoos,
Circle Jerks,
Trumans Water,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wally Richardson,
Sun Ra,
T. Rex,
June of 44,
The Angels of Light,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxy Music,
Suburban Knight,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Schoolly D,
The American Breed,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lalann,
Thee Headcoats,
The New Christs,
Crooked Eye,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Buckinghams,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tres Demented,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nico,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Agitation Free,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.