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 Netherlands and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Adolescents to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Sun Ra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Names,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brand Nubian,
the Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Alton Ellis,
The Happenings,
UT,
Scott Walker,
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
KRS-One,
CMW,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-Ray Spex,
Sister Nancy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Tears for Fears,
Circle Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Slackers,
The Grass Roots,
Cecil Taylor,
Gregory Isaacs,
Model 500,
Metal Thangz,
Motorama,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Japan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sight & Sound,
The Searchers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stetsasonic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
10cc,
Camouflage,
Fat Boys,
The Kinks,
Youth Brigade,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Sam Rivers,
Aural Exciters,
The Slits,
Charles Mingus,
The Trojans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Yusef Lateef,
Joey Negro,
The Mojo Men,
Skarface,
Bobby Byrd,
The United States of America,
Jerry's Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.