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 Belize and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Names to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
Alice Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Marmalade,
Al Stewart,
Tropical Tobacco,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun Ra,
Ultra Naté,
Parry Music,
Bluetip,
Black Pus,
The Birthday Party,
ABC,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
Erykah Badu,
Eric Copeland,
Nas,
Sandy B,
Patti Smith,
Brand Nubian,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Icehouse,
Sarah Menescal,
Wasted Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Christie,
Television Personalities,
The Mojo Men,
Underground Resistance,
Angry Samoans,
Lungfish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Echospace,
La Düsseldorf,
Simply Red,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Outsiders,
Toni Rubio,
Surgeon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bang On A Can,
Mandrill,
Mars,
Fela Kuti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sam Rivers,
Massinfluence,
Chris Corsano,
The Red Krayola,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Make Up,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Moon,
Stiv Bators,
The Techniques,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.