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 Uganda and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Smoke to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Jacques Brel,
Wolf Eyes,
Oblivians,
Visage,
Television,
John Coltrane,
Pussy Galore,
Zapp,
The Pop Group,
Tears for Fears,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Charles Mingus,
Boredoms,
Gabor Szabo,
Max Romeo,
Spoonie Gee,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
MDC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delta 5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moody Blues,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Main Source,
The Buckinghams,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
X-Ray Spex,
Cluster,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Albert Ayler,
Isaac Hayes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mummies,
Thompson Twins,
Desert Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Scott Walker,
the Swans,
Gang Gang Dance,
Buzzcocks,
Flash Fearless,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Yazoo,
Lou Christie,
This Heat,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Althea and Donna,
Kevin Saunderson,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
The United States of America,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.