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 Albania and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Bill Wells to the techno 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar 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 arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Suicide,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yaz,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gong,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Franke,
The Star Department,
The Red Krayola,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Public Enemy,
Gang of Four,
Schoolly D,
X-101,
Jawbox,
These Immortal Souls,
Slave,
B.T. Express,
Bad Manners,
Radiohead,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Andrew Hill,
Aural Exciters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mantronix,
Amon Düül II,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Index,
China Crisis,
The Gap Band,
Pulsallama,
Eric B and Rakim,
Monks,
Joy Division,
The Stooges,
Loose Ends,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Young Rascals,
Rotary Connection,
Joyce Sims,
Curtis Mayfield,
R.M.O.,
James White and The Blacks,
Guru Guru,
Roxette,
Blake Baxter,
Massinfluence,
Procol Harum,
Nirvana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Dead C,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.