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 Kiribati and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Howard Jones to the disco 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ 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 clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crash Course in Science,
Von Mondo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
World's Most,
Patti Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Bob Dylan,
Colin Newman,
Hot Snakes,
Oblivians,
Jandek,
Yusef Lateef,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eden Ahbez,
Archie Shepp,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Divine Comedy,
The Selecter,
Tommy Roe,
Technova,
Gabor Szabo,
David McCallum,
Banda Bassotti,
Mr. Review,
Terrestrial Tones,
Make Up,
Chrome,
Eurythmics,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
Funkadelic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Television,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Association,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television Personalities,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
Outsiders,
Skaos,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Throbbing Gristle,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pere Ubu,
The Golliwogs,
Accadde A,
Marine Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gladiators,
John Holt,
Kenny Larkin,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.