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 Dominican Republic and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dorothy Ashby to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
the Germs,
Monks,
The Searchers,
Unwound,
The Music Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
48th St. Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slackers,
Neu!,
Can,
Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Peter and Kerry,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skriet,
Simply Red,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Parry Music,
The Residents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Au Pairs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
Schoolly D,
Aloha Tigers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marc Almond,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lungfish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jesper Dahlback,
John Cale,
Michelle Simonal,
Warsaw,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy Collins,
Pere Ubu,
The Knickerbockers,
Joe Finger,
Jeff Lynne,
David McCallum,
Khruangbin,
Suburban Knight,
Connie Case,
Bush Tetras,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bronski Beat,
Junior Murvin,
The Gap Band,
Depeche Mode,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Slits,
Jacques Brel,
X-102,
Accadde A,
Roger Hodgson,
Bad Manners,
Delta 5,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.