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 Rwanda and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mr. Review to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro 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 chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Alton Ellis,
Lakeside,
Aural Exciters,
Buzzcocks,
Audionom,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
The Buckinghams,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dead Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Archie Shepp,
Moebius,
Niagra,
The Fuzztones,
Joe Smooth,
Lyres,
The Doobie Brothers,
June Days,
Altered Images,
Kayak,
Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pulsallama,
48th St. Collective,
Wasted Youth,
Gang of Four,
Crime,
Moby Grape,
The Busters,
The Gories,
The Divine Comedy,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion,
Index,
Idris Muhammad,
The Victims,
Television,
the Sonics,
Ice-T,
Simply Red,
Barrington Levy,
Juan Atkins,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Von Mondo,
Rekid,
K-Klass,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monks,
Black Pus,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.