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 Argentina and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Charles Mingus to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Ten City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Glambeats Corp.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cal Tjader,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Bananas,
Harmonia,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalann,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
The Gap Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mad Mike,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slick Rick,
Visage,
Junior Murvin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Qualms,
The Count Five,
Matthew Bourne,
K-Klass,
Marmalade,
PIL,
The Index,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultra Naté,
Jandek,
Hashim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Echospace,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Das Ding,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
Hoover,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terrestrial Tones,
Yazoo,
Josef K,
The Sound,
The Walker Brothers,
X-101,
Graham Central Station,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
Barry Ungar,
The Cowsills,
Pulsallama,
Jerry's Kids,
Minor Threat,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.