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 East Timor and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a rhodes 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 sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Blancmange,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marine Girls,
X-101,
David Bowie,
Idris Muhammad,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Symarip,
Negative Approach,
Tubeway Army,
Skaos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
MDC,
Eli Mardock,
Essential Logic,
Ten City,
Bronski Beat,
Kas Product,
Wire,
Los Fastidios,
The Move,
Gong,
Cheater Slicks,
Ohio Players,
Inner City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sugar Minott,
Shuggie Otis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aural Exciters,
The Misunderstood,
One Last Wish,
Spandau Ballet,
Joey Negro,
The Cramps,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Sneak,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Country Teasers,
Fugazi,
Yaz,
Donald Byrd,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Quadrant,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Wells,
The Electric Prunes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Birthday Party,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Patti Smith,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Malaria!,
Motorama,
Joy Division,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.