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 Cape Verde and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stockholm Monsters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 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 a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Amazonics,
Barrington Levy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Cowsills,
John Coltrane,
Derrick Morgan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Royal Trux,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mantronix,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Angels of Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
48th St. Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
Magazine,
Nils Olav,
The Saints,
Eden Ahbez,
Massinfluence,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Albert Ayler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fear,
D'Angelo,
Easy Going,
The Cure,
The Music Machine,
The Smiths,
Darondo,
ABC,
Section 25,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
Morten Harket,
Yaz,
Freddie Wadling,
Matthew Halsall,
Intrusion,
Bronski Beat,
Isaac Hayes,
Niagra,
Ronan,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
Gong,
Ten City,
Junior Murvin,
The Searchers,
Maleditus Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Underground Resistance,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.