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 Colombia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 Buzzcocks to the jazz 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 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 snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Youth Brigade,
Black Flag,
Man Parrish,
Pussy Galore,
Agitation Free,
Pantaleimon,
Motorama,
Rosa Yemen,
James White and The Blacks,
Howard Jones,
Absolute Body Control,
Arcadia,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Buzzcocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
D'Angelo,
The Count Five,
Suicide,
Suburban Knight,
Franke,
Tears for Fears,
The Techniques,
Lou Christie,
The Gladiators,
Black Bananas,
Susan Cadogan,
Cybotron,
The Moody Blues,
Chris & Cosey,
Siglo XX,
UT,
Fela Kuti,
Morten Harket,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lightning Bolt,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Average White Band,
Bill Wells,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun Ra,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Yellowson,
Cameo,
Magazine,
Ponytail,
Sonny Sharrock,
Supertramp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Niagra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Steve Hackett,
Newcleus,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.