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 Netherlands and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Deadbeat to the jazz 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Smooth,
Slick Rick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Make Up,
Wings,
Pagans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Main Source,
Amon Düül II,
Rosa Yemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare,
Blossom Toes,
Interpol,
Dark Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scan 7,
Quando Quango,
Surgeon,
These Immortal Souls,
The Blues Magoos,
Scientists,
Pere Ubu,
The Happenings,
Sällskapet,
The Vogues,
A Certain Ratio,
The New Christs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eve St. Jones,
John Foxx,
Jandek,
the Normal,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
a-ha,
T. Rex,
Alphaville,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Panda Bear,
Neil Young,
The Dead C,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
Patti Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
Youth Brigade,
Scott Walker,
R.M.O.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Gang Green,
The Wake,
Aloha Tigers,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.