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 Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sarah Menescal to the techno 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb 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 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
cv313,
Supertramp,
Patti Smith,
K-Klass,
The Red Krayola,
Theoretical Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Guru Guru,
Easy Going,
The Move,
These Immortal Souls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
Freddie Wadling,
Altered Images,
Byron Stingily,
X-101,
Juan Atkins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Normal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rites of Spring,
Average White Band,
Fatback Band,
Technova,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blancmange,
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soft Machine,
Donny Hathaway,
Carl Craig,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantaleimon,
Masters at Work,
X-Ray Spex,
Prince Buster,
Roy Ayers,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Motions,
Tommy Roe,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Yaz,
The Sonics,
Oneida,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Lynne,
Gang Starr,
Icehouse,
T. Rex,
Blossom Toes,
Pole,
Quando Quango,
The Fuzztones,
Oblivians,
The Wake,
Peter and Kerry,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.