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 Palau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord 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 synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Y Pants,
Graham Central Station,
Faraquet,
Mars,
Scratch Acid,
Gabor Szabo,
Agitation Free,
Spoonie Gee,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Accadde A,
The Searchers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ohio Players,
Tres Demented,
Minutemen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crooked Eye,
Magma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Interpol,
Qualms,
Malaria!,
Radio Birdman,
the Soft Cell,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultravox,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Starr,
The Tremeloes,
K-Klass,
Average White Band,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pagans,
Fluxion,
Cluster,
The Selecter,
the Slits,
Cal Tjader,
Barclay James Harvest,
Danielle Patucci,
LL Cool J,
Pantytec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
Pussy Galore,
Roger Hodgson,
Magazine,
Saccharine Trust,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Dirtbombs,
Heaven 17,
Rosa Yemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Moss Icon,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.