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 San Marino and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mad Mike to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
Second Layer,
Crooked Eye,
The Buckinghams,
L. Decosne,
Basic Channel,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cowsills,
Khruangbin,
DJ Style,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Sheep,
The Grass Roots,
Monks,
The Young Rascals,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chrome,
Massinfluence,
Vladislav Delay,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eddi Front,
Bill Near,
Crispian St. Peters,
KRS-One,
Accadde A,
Aloha Tigers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Livin' Joy,
Eve St. Jones,
Harry Pussy,
Mission of Burma,
Babytalk,
Maleditus Sound,
Joe Smooth,
Junior Murvin,
Nas,
The Count Five,
Matthew Halsall,
Gong,
Organ,
Darondo,
The Slackers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fuzztones,
Crime,
Dawn Penn,
Soulsonic Force,
Lalann,
Peter and Kerry,
Swell Maps,
Piero Umiliani,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scan 7,
Fluxion,
Pulsallama,
PIL,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.