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 Jordan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Con Funk Shun to the rap 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Saccharine Trust,
Maleditus Sound,
Kaleidoscope,
David McCallum,
Bobby Womack,
Babytalk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Funky Four + One,
Hot Snakes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Curtis Mayfield,
Freddie Wadling,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
AZ,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Searchers,
ABC,
Subhumans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Susan Cadogan,
Prince Buster,
Lucky Dragons,
The J.B.'s,
Joy Division,
Swans,
Sun Ra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gang Green,
Fugazi,
The Walker Brothers,
Bluetip,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Howard Jones,
Eli Mardock,
Faust,
Hasil Adkins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Moon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rakim,
The Cramps,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hoover,
Mandrill,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Patti Smith,
Ronnie Foster,
Skarface,
Glenn Branca,
The Misunderstood,
Mantronix,
Radiopuhelimet,
Laurel Aitken,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sound Behaviour,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
Roxette,
Magazine,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.