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 Vanuatu and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Gang Starr to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum 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 organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
The Human League,
Letta Mbulu,
John Coltrane,
Rapeman,
Ornette Coleman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Modern Lovers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Funkadelic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
Joy Division,
Lightning Bolt,
Kurtis Blow,
Accadde A,
Gang Gang Dance,
a-ha,
Sällskapet,
Lower 48,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pharoah Sanders,
DJ Sneak,
The Litter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Osbourne,
Talk Talk,
The Wake,
Metal Thangz,
Glambeats Corp.,
Q and Not U,
Theoretical Girls,
This Heat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Malaria!,
the Swans,
Wally Richardson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
Cybotron,
Boredoms,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Silicon Teens,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T.S.O.L.,
Pylon,
Interpol,
Dorothy Ashby,
Audionom,
Sex Pistols,
Deadbeat,
Max Romeo,
Sparks,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes, Hot Snakes.
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.