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 Sweden and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 The Black Dice to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
The Wake,
Tomorrow,
DNA,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marmalade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cybotron,
Jeff Mills,
Ossler,
Agent Orange,
Sällskapet,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ronan,
The Count Five,
John Lydon,
Faraquet,
Bush Tetras,
MDC,
Amon Düül,
Rekid,
Jawbox,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Style,
La Düsseldorf,
Freddie Wadling,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott Heron,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
Livin' Joy,
Minnie Riperton,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Foxx,
Johnny Clarke,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
KRS-One,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aural Exciters,
Organ,
Oblivians,
Vladislav Delay,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Suicide,
Average White Band,
The Doors,
The Music Machine,
Can,
Eric Copeland,
Bang On A Can,
The Standells,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.