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 Zambia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 Gil Scott Heron to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Wyatt,
Faraquet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pole,
Colin Newman,
Ituana,
Freddie Wadling,
The Barracudas,
Eric Dolphy,
Radiohead,
Television,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Johnny Clarke,
Todd Rundgren,
Max Romeo,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fela Kuti,
Oblivians,
Echospace,
the Human League,
Rakim,
The Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Bad Manners,
Radiopuhelimet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Arab on Radar,
Sex Pistols,
The Black Dice,
Average White Band,
Hasil Adkins,
the Bar-Kays,
E-Dancer,
Terry Callier,
Delon & Dalcan,
U.S. Maple,
Hot Snakes,
The Birthday Party,
Scion,
The Modern Lovers,
Nik Kershaw,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Youth Brigade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
Soft Cell,
Hashim,
Procol Harum,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.