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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Slits to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All A Certain Ratio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an arpeggiator 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 güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Stockholm Monsters,
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiohead,
Swell Maps,
Y Pants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Inner City,
Tom Boy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Anakelly,
Brand Nubian,
the Fania All-Stars,
Soulsonic Force,
Connie Case,
The Zeros,
Yazoo,
Radiopuhelimet,
Isaac Hayes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hoover,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül,
Roger Hodgson,
Jimmy McGriff,
Moby Grape,
The Cramps,
Rites of Spring,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pantytec,
Flipper,
Donny Hathaway,
Ludus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Skaos,
Bizarre Inc.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Reagan Youth,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Rundgren,
Johnny Clarke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bob Dylan,
Rakim,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dead C,
Jacob Miller,
Zapp,
Cymande,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Swans,
Don Cherry,
Symarip,
Black Flag,
cv313,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.