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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Radio Birdman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Evens,
Sarah Menescal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Kerrie Biddell,
Von Mondo,
Young Marble Giants,
Flash Fearless,
Ludus,
Robert Hood,
Faraquet,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Grauzone,
Sister Nancy,
The Kinks,
Minny Pops,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Grass Roots,
the Association,
Vladislav Delay,
Rosa Yemen,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerri Chandler,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dawn Penn,
Rufus Thomas,
Brand Nubian,
T.S.O.L.,
Yazoo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gong,
The Blues Magoos,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Gang Dance,
Swans,
Roger Hodgson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Near,
Mary Jane Girls,
Easy Going,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Scan 7,
Lower 48,
Bauhaus,
Schoolly D,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
Yellowson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Supertramp,
the Normal,
These Immortal Souls,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.