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 Bulgaria and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lindisfarne to the crunk 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar 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 marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sam Rivers,
Monks,
Carl Craig,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Delon & Dalcan,
Howard Jones,
Eric Copeland,
Quadrant,
Accadde A,
Wasted Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Hood,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nik Kershaw,
Stetsasonic,
Bootsy Collins,
World's Most,
The Stooges,
Colin Newman,
Rotary Connection,
Swans,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris Corsano,
June of 44,
Motorama,
The Move,
Niagra,
Marine Girls,
Average White Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Funky Four + One,
Quantec,
Grandmaster Flash,
Heaven 17,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ronnie Foster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
New York Dolls,
Ultravox,
Brothers Johnson,
Bush Tetras,
Joy Division,
The Buckinghams,
Sällskapet,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Suburban Knight,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.