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 United Kingdom and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Quadrant to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Robert Hood,
Inner City,
Slave,
Lyres,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Maurizio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Average White Band,
The Invisible,
Wings,
Hot Snakes,
Crispian St. Peters,
L. Decosne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Gladiators,
Q and Not U,
The Divine Comedy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
10cc,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The J.B.'s,
Smog,
Aloha Tigers,
Sarah Menescal,
Aural Exciters,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Desert Stars,
One Last Wish,
Country Teasers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fire Engines,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Moby Grape,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Cymande,
48th St. Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Bluetip,
Liliput,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marvin Gaye,
Cal Tjader,
MDC,
Tres Demented,
Sun Ra,
The Dead C,
The Techniques,
Los Fastidios,
Leonard Cohen,
Pantaleimon,
Black Pus,
The Slackers,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick May,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.