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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Rakim to the grunge 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quando Quango,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swell Maps,
Quadrant,
The Dave Clark Five,
World's Most,
Soul II Soul,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jandek,
The Saints,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ituana,
Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
Minny Pops,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fatback Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Steve Hackett,
Sam Rivers,
Visage,
Angry Samoans,
Rites of Spring,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mantronix,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Osbourne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Max Romeo,
David Axelrod,
The Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eve St. Jones,
Amon Düül II,
La Düsseldorf,
Gabor Szabo,
Morten Harket,
Todd Terry,
Amazonics,
Ten City,
Harry Pussy,
Kenny Larkin,
X-Ray Spex,
Faust,
Loose Ends,
Connie Case,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.