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 France and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 guitar and a synthesizer 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 guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scan 7,
Jandek,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Circle Jerks,
Qualms,
Cecil Taylor,
Sound Behaviour,
Chris Corsano,
The Moleskins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
Joey Negro,
Yellowson,
Simply Red,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Stooges,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
Scion,
Yazoo,
Flipper,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed,
Maleditus Sound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
Saccharine Trust,
Radio Birdman,
Bob Dylan,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
ABC,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Smiths,
Ponytail,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
FM Einheit,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
Lou Christie,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fire Engines,
The Martian,
Supertramp,
Laurel Aitken,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
New York Dolls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.