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 United States and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Dark Day to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
PIL,
B.T. Express,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Doors,
Roxy Music,
The Blues Magoos,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Crooked Eye,
The Fugs,
Joensuu 1685,
Nik Kershaw,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slackers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Au Pairs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brothers Johnson,
Wasted Youth,
The Buckinghams,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
The Five Americans,
T.S.O.L.,
Stereo Dub,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Funky Four + One,
The Fortunes,
Tropical Tobacco,
JFA,
Scientists,
Soft Machine,
June Days,
Sound Behaviour,
H. Thieme,
The Tremeloes,
Angry Samoans,
Rapeman,
Aloha Tigers,
Drexciya,
AZ,
Robert Wyatt,
Monks,
The Zeros,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Qualms,
Scion,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
Graham Central Station,
Rites of Spring,
Camberwell Now,
KRS-One,
Sarah Menescal,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.