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 Finland and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Birthday Party to the rap 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a clarinet 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Flag,
Qualms,
a-ha,
Lou Reed,
The Martian,
Don Cherry,
Japan,
Erasure,
Khruangbin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shoche,
Agent Orange,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deepchord,
Rhythm & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Magma,
Cymande,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Neon Judgement,
Newcleus,
The Techniques,
Boredoms,
Sarah Menescal,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxette,
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
Josef K,
Peter & Gordon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
Stockholm Monsters,
Freddie Wadling,
The Red Krayola,
Gabor Szabo,
Thompson Twins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The United States of America,
Chris & Cosey,
Roxy Music,
The Cramps,
Lalann,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Average White Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Absolute Body Control,
Mars,
Crime,
La Düsseldorf,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fugs,
Marvin Gaye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.