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 Panama and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Graham Central Station to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb 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 synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Sam Rivers,
the Swans,
Fear,
Oblivians,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marmalade,
Dawn Penn,
Sällskapet,
Alton Ellis,
The Fortunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swans,
Boz Scaggs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Amazonics,
Cymande,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
Lucky Dragons,
Barrington Levy,
Pussy Galore,
MDC,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bauhaus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Barracudas,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Stereo Dub,
Juan Atkins,
Fad Gadget,
Unwound,
Marine Girls,
Idris Muhammad,
Skaos,
Television Personalities,
Theoretical Girls,
Negative Approach,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monolake,
Glenn Branca,
Technova,
48th St. Collective,
The Index,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Womack,
The Neon Judgement,
Marvin Gaye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Warren Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Arab on Radar,
Flipper,
Tubeway Army,
FM Einheit,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.