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 Kazakhstan and from New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Basic Channel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Los Fastidios,
Rod Modell,
The Angels of Light,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerri Chandler,
Fugazi,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacob Miller,
Godley & Creme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Star Department,
Mr. Review,
Pantytec,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Amon Düül,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ice-T,
the Association,
Average White Band,
The Martian,
The Beau Brummels,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soft Machine,
The Happenings,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swell Maps,
Robert Görl,
New Age Steppers,
Monks,
Lou Reed,
John Holt,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Susan Cadogan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Alphaville,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joy Division,
Matthew Bourne,
Joyce Sims,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Associates,
Adolescents,
Sugar Minott,
Alison Limerick,
the Swans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Derrick Morgan,
Rapeman,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Camouflage,
Lou Christie,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
Soul II Soul,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.