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 Bhutan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bar-Kays to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
Jeff Lynne,
F. McDonald,
H. Thieme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Blackbyrds,
Yaz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
Fugazi,
Matthew Halsall,
Albert Ayler,
The Offenders,
Scratch Acid,
Bush Tetras,
Moebius,
the Bar-Kays,
Hardrive,
Babytalk,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dead C,
Blossom Toes,
Wire,
Joy Division,
JFA,
Maleditus Sound,
PIL,
Scion,
Goldenarms,
The Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Mummies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sarah Menescal,
Metal Thangz,
Deepchord,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fear,
Lou Reed,
Buzzcocks,
Alphaville,
Mission of Burma,
Carl Craig,
The Smiths,
DNA,
Vainqueur,
The Buckinghams,
Anakelly,
Althea and Donna,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Traffic Nightmare,
Trumans Water,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Remains,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Radio Birdman,
Alton Ellis,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.