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 Laos and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amon Düül II,
Anthony Braxton,
Unrelated Segments,
Donald Byrd,
Moby Grape,
ABC,
Davy DMX,
New York Dolls,
Patti Smith,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pulsallama,
Sugar Minott,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fortunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Foxx,
X-Ray Spex,
Warren Ellis,
Accadde A,
The Remains,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang Starr,
Public Enemy,
DJ Sneak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun City Girls,
KRS-One,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yaz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Heaven 17,
Dawn Penn,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Offenders,
Ponytail,
Juan Atkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
FM Einheit,
Graham Central Station,
The Human League,
Funkadelic,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Buckinghams,
Spandau Ballet,
The American Breed,
Alton Ellis,
Lakeside,
Bluetip,
Kenny Larkin,
Rotary Connection,
Terry Callier,
Kayak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Alphaville,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lalann,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.