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 El Salvador and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boredoms 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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Pere Ubu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kenny Larkin,
Hoover,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bobby Womack,
The Saints,
kango's stein massive,
10cc,
Susan Cadogan,
The Five Americans,
Aswad,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Symarip,
The Walker Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Drexciya,
Godley & Creme,
Yazoo,
Black Pus,
The Raincoats,
Mark Hollis,
Inner City,
Ronnie Foster,
Gichy Dan,
Nico,
KRS-One,
Terrestrial Tones,
Franke,
The Cramps,
Von Mondo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
Bush Tetras,
Jeru the Damaja,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
Moby Grape,
Robert Wyatt,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Trumans Water,
Carl Craig,
The Gladiators,
Camberwell Now,
Erasure,
Joe Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
Livin' Joy,
Smog,
Schoolly D,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.