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 Haiti and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Misunderstood to the techno 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fela Kuti,
Soul II Soul,
Donny Hathaway,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
Moss Icon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scratch Acid,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nils Olav,
Davy DMX,
Blancmange,
Hashim,
Zapp,
Joe Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris Corsano,
Oblivians,
Jandek,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
The Searchers,
The Slits,
JFA,
Archie Shepp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultra Naté,
Darondo,
The Residents,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Arthur Verocai,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mars,
The Gories,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Subhumans,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Popol Vuh,
The Velvet Underground,
Wally Richardson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Buckinghams,
World's Most,
Neu!,
Ohio Players,
The Cowsills,
Little Man,
Glenn Branca,
Brand Nubian,
Stiv Bators,
Aswad,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.