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 Brunei and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cure to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Fad Gadget,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Subhumans,
The Seeds,
Kaleidoscope,
Cal Tjader,
Neil Young,
Khruangbin,
Ken Boothe,
These Immortal Souls,
The Divine Comedy,
Nik Kershaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
Basic Channel,
Skarface,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
AZ,
Whodini,
The Offenders,
R.M.O.,
The Cowsills,
The Angels of Light,
Delta 5,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Human League,
The Gap Band,
Sugar Minott,
The Saints,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moby Grape,
Scan 7,
Morten Harket,
The Beau Brummels,
the Soft Cell,
Harry Pussy,
Ohio Players,
Mad Mike,
Massinfluence,
Talk Talk,
Au Pairs,
Wolf Eyes,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare,
Lucky Dragons,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mummies,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Magazine,
the Bar-Kays,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Al Stewart,
Jacques Brel,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.