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 New Zealand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jawbox to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
Bootsy Collins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Royal Trux,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stetsasonic,
Andrew Hill,
Suburban Knight,
Barclay James Harvest,
Carl Craig,
Anakelly,
Visage,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
Letta Mbulu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Technova,
Rufus Thomas,
Connie Case,
The Young Rascals,
Moby Grape,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
Lungfish,
Black Flag,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Fraelich,
Slave,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
KRS-One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Pus,
Rapeman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tropical Tobacco,
Vladislav Delay,
Ice-T,
Jacques Brel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Michelle Simonal,
Ossler,
Warsaw,
Trumans Water,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Von Mondo,
Hardrive,
CMW,
Moebius,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Second Layer,
Robert Hood,
the Swans,
T. Rex,
Easy Going,
the Association,
The Mojo Men,
Joensuu 1685,
Janne Schatter,
Young Marble Giants,
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.