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 New Zealand and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Malaria! to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Wasted Youth,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Remains,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Oneida,
Nation of Ulysses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Hood,
Livin' Joy,
E-Dancer,
ABBA,
Marvin Gaye,
Tim Buckley,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Almond,
Slick Rick,
Country Teasers,
The Young Rascals,
Flash Fearless,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Max Romeo,
Funkadelic,
Prince Buster,
Hoover,
Banda Bassotti,
Warsaw,
Cal Tjader,
Stereo Dub,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moby Grape,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Nas,
Charles Mingus,
Deepchord,
Graham Central Station,
Icehouse,
Stiv Bators,
Patti Smith,
Q and Not U,
Moebius,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Magma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pussy Galore,
Public Image Ltd.,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
Cybotron,
The Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ituana,
Byron Stingily,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.