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 Sudan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 The Buckinghams to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron 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 mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Arcadia,
Godley & Creme,
Accadde A,
Sixth Finger,
Suburban Knight,
The Wake,
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
Siglo XX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
kango's stein massive,
Slick Rick,
Dual Sessions,
Jerry's Kids,
PIL,
Arthur Verocai,
the Germs,
The Doors,
JFA,
Adolescents,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Von Mondo,
Morten Harket,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Halsall,
Main Source,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roxy Music,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Juan Atkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Lyres,
CMW,
Sex Pistols,
The Remains,
The Gap Band,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Banda Bassotti,
a-ha,
Franke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Smoke,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moebius,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
F. McDonald,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Letta Mbulu,
The Neon Judgement,
Barry Ungar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
Kenny Larkin,
Colin Newman,
Charles Mingus,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.