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 Bahamas and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pagans to the techno 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba 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 mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Sound Behaviour,
Malaria!,
Fatback Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Youth Brigade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blancmange,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rapeman,
Yazoo,
Minor Threat,
Lyres,
Jacob Miller,
Ossler,
Bluetip,
Hoover,
Newcleus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fad Gadget,
The American Breed,
The Wake,
Boogie Down Productions,
DNA,
Barrington Levy,
La Düsseldorf,
Idris Muhammad,
The Busters,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
Scott Walker,
Pylon,
The New Christs,
Camouflage,
The Divine Comedy,
Drexciya,
Average White Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rosa Yemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Camberwell Now,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sight & Sound,
The Black Dice,
The Shadows of Knight,
Clear Light,
Man Parrish,
Mandrill,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Sheep,
Ornette Coleman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Popol Vuh,
Rekid,
Bad Manners,
Niagra,
Animal Collective,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rotary Connection,
10cc,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.