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 Eritrea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Mummies to the punk 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Shoche,
Shuggie Otis,
The Young Rascals,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Anthony Braxton,
The Seeds,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Ultimate Spinach,
New Age Steppers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sun City Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Bananas,
Joe Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Pus,
Dual Sessions,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Wake,
Index,
Warsaw,
Todd Terry,
The Remains,
Magma,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Vogues,
Masters at Work,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tres Demented,
K-Klass,
the Normal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Todd Rundgren,
David Bowie,
Arthur Verocai,
Absolute Body Control,
Stockholm Monsters,
Outsiders,
Crime,
The Knickerbockers,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Busters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Evens,
Glenn Branca,
One Last Wish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
DNA,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Martian,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.