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 Greece and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Saints to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Section 25,
Severed Heads,
Alton Ellis,
T.S.O.L.,
Sandy B,
Can,
Donny Hathaway,
the Sonics,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Morten Harket,
Slick Rick,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Ronan,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Jacob Miller,
Fad Gadget,
La Düsseldorf,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ituana,
Arab on Radar,
X-101,
Ultravox,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eurythmics,
Maleditus Sound,
Joey Negro,
Leonard Cohen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
KRS-One,
Dorothy Ashby,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Organ,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Con Funk Shun,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
Underground Resistance,
Symarip,
Motorama,
Blancmange,
The Monochrome Set,
Negative Approach,
Charles Mingus,
Cheater Slicks,
Donald Byrd,
OOIOO,
Ken Boothe,
Cameo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Steve Hackett,
Soft Cell,
Rekid,
This Heat,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.