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 Bolivia and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pylon to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar 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 linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
Connie Case,
F. McDonald,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cowsills,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dave Gahan,
Warsaw,
Loose Ends,
Brass Construction,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cramps,
Jacques Brel,
Angry Samoans,
The American Breed,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flipper,
Maurizio,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
One Last Wish,
Popol Vuh,
LL Cool J,
Panda Bear,
A Certain Ratio,
X-Ray Spex,
Tropical Tobacco,
Aaron Thompson,
Harry Pussy,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Invisible,
Sonic Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nirvana,
Pole,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Suicide,
Eddi Front,
FM Einheit,
The Associates,
Erykah Badu,
The Blues Magoos,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scott Walker,
The Music Machine,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minnie Riperton,
Mission of Burma,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.