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 East Timor and from Delhi.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the dance 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin 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 snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Das Ding,
Warren Ellis,
Chrome,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crime,
Drexciya,
Camberwell Now,
The Detroit Cobras,
Prince Buster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pierre Henry,
Jesper Dahlback,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fear,
JFA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sugar Minott,
ABC,
Brand Nubian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Vladislav Delay,
Cluster,
The Martian,
Icehouse,
Black Bananas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roger Hodgson,
Desert Stars,
Lou Christie,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-101,
The Standells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crash Course in Science,
Sun City Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maurizio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Victims,
Soulsonic Force,
Newcleus,
Jacques Brel,
10cc,
KRS-One,
Shuggie Otis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rapeman,
Quadrant,
Easy Going,
Eddi Front,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Franke,
The Gun Club,
John Foxx,
Gong,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.