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 Mauritania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nirvana to the dance 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a snare 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 spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Minnie Riperton,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
Joey Negro,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Fuzztones,
Talk Talk,
June of 44,
The Happenings,
Altered Images,
Mandrill,
Fluxion,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Angels of Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Görl,
Charles Mingus,
The Wake,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Human League,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
Rotary Connection,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Birthday Party,
Negative Approach,
Dave Gahan,
Quando Quango,
Peter & Gordon,
Chris Corsano,
Big Daddy Kane,
Idris Muhammad,
In Retrospect,
Minny Pops,
Don Cherry,
Johnny Clarke,
Theoretical Girls,
June Days,
Fat Boys,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mad Mike,
Albert Ayler,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
Anakelly,
Prince Buster,
Nas,
Das Ding,
Masters at Work,
Faraquet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Graham Central Station,
Qualms,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.