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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Sam Rivers to the rap 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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jacob Miller,
Bad Manners,
The Star Department,
Japan,
Eve St. Jones,
The Moody Blues,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Donny Hathaway,
The Remains,
kango's stein massive,
Symarip,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Divine Comedy,
Sandy B,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Nils Olav,
The Cramps,
the Soft Cell,
MC5,
Pierre Henry,
Zapp,
Yusef Lateef,
Brand Nubian,
Sonic Youth,
Blossom Toes,
Ornette Coleman,
Fear,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amon Düül,
F. McDonald,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Motions,
The Slits,
Wings,
Rakim,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
This Heat,
Altered Images,
Popol Vuh,
Von Mondo,
the Association,
Janne Schatter,
Icehouse,
Bauhaus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Funky Four + One,
Rotary Connection,
Agent Orange,
Skaos,
Intrusion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Moleskins,
Judy Mowatt,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.