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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drexciya,
Soft Machine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Stereo Dub,
Soulsonic Force,
Dead Boys,
The Gories,
Theoretical Girls,
Graham Central Station,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Supertramp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
The Gladiators,
The Skatalites,
T.S.O.L.,
Vladislav Delay,
Tres Demented,
DNA,
Tom Boy,
Darondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Toni Rubio,
the Fania All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Crime,
Nik Kershaw,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Connie Case,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Quantec,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Moby Grape,
Gong,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cal Tjader,
Simply Red,
Public Enemy,
Fluxion,
The Barracudas,
Vainqueur,
The Moleskins,
Magma,
The Gap Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Slackers,
Joey Negro,
Amon Düül,
Fear,
Camberwell Now,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.