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 Angola and from Cairo.
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 Stockholm and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Chrome to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe 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 organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Newcleus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Almond,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Zero Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
The Move,
Drive Like Jehu,
Hoover,
Freddie Wadling,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun City Girls,
The Associates,
Magma,
Frankie Knuckles,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerrie Biddell,
Max Romeo,
Thee Headcoats,
The Busters,
Sandy B,
Chris Corsano,
Rakim,
Con Funk Shun,
New Age Steppers,
The Moleskins,
Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Section 25,
Ronan,
Dark Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
a-ha,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roxy Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Adolescents,
Cal Tjader,
ABC,
Siglo XX,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Masters at Work,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brand Nubian,
Pole,
Kurtis Blow,
The Last Poets,
Rosa Yemen,
China Crisis,
Derrick Morgan,
Marmalade,
Pagans,
Bootsy Collins,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.