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 Kuwait and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 Lyon and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Pretty Things to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a güiro 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moody Blues,
Unrelated Segments,
Prince Buster,
The Knickerbockers,
The Velvet Underground,
Yusef Lateef,
Index,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kerri Chandler,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang of Four,
Shoche,
Neu!,
UT,
Suburban Knight,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Near,
Kurtis Blow,
China Crisis,
The Trojans,
Inner City,
Wasted Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Names,
Colin Newman,
Dead Boys,
the Association,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Sherman,
The Red Krayola,
The Gories,
Flamin' Groovies,
Skarface,
David Axelrod,
Jandek,
Bobby Womack,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Buzzcocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dirtbombs,
the Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Warsaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Danielle Patucci,
Talk Talk,
Oblivians,
Mark Hollis,
Crooked Eye,
Soul II Soul,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.