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 Azerbaijan and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eden Ahbez to the crunk 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet 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 rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
the Fania All-Stars,
Oblivians,
Rosa Yemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eden Ahbez,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Moody Blues,
Drive Like Jehu,
Max Romeo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Archie Shepp,
Lalann,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mandrill,
Laurel Aitken,
Eve St. Jones,
Grey Daturas,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül,
Eurythmics,
Slave,
Warsaw,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
Suicide,
Ornette Coleman,
Chris Corsano,
Sam Rivers,
The Skatalites,
The Cosmic Jokers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Bananas,
Duran Duran,
La Düsseldorf,
Whodini,
Mad Mike,
Warren Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Royal Trux,
Kurtis Blow,
The Velvet Underground,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
FM Einheit,
Can,
Swans,
Zero Boys,
Ice-T,
Marmalade,
Letta Mbulu,
KRS-One,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacques Brel,
Bauhaus,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arab on Radar,
Nas,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.