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 United States and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Television Personalities to the punk 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Intrusion,
Tears for Fears,
Nik Kershaw,
Hasil Adkins,
F. McDonald,
Freddie Wadling,
Surgeon,
Laurel Aitken,
Buzzcocks,
Neu!,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Todd Terry,
Brothers Johnson,
Nils Olav,
Crooked Eye,
The New Christs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rites of Spring,
Rotary Connection,
Sex Pistols,
B.T. Express,
U.S. Maple,
Barrington Levy,
The Victims,
Archie Shepp,
Pierre Henry,
The Real Kids,
Whodini,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flamin' Groovies,
Erykah Badu,
Yellowson,
FM Einheit,
Sugar Minott,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
The Saints,
X-102,
Rakim,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Sonics,
Sarah Menescal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Parrish,
Animal Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Howard Jones,
The United States of America,
Cameo,
The Alarm Clocks,
Shuggie Otis,
The Doors,
Magazine,
10cc,
Jandek,
Avey Tare,
The Moody Blues,
Cecil Taylor,
Ronan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.