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 Venezuela and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 marimba 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 Shuggie Otis to the grime 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare,
Yusef Lateef,
Sandy B,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Little Man,
Roger Hodgson,
Thompson Twins,
Sun Ra,
Shuggie Otis,
The Raincoats,
Fluxion,
Skarface,
Con Funk Shun,
The Buckinghams,
Qualms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fall,
The Knickerbockers,
Grey Daturas,
Eden Ahbez,
Cal Tjader,
The Leaves,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kayak,
Yaz,
Max Romeo,
The Gun Club,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Byrd,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Litter,
Suburban Knight,
DJ Sneak,
X-Ray Spex,
June of 44,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Soul II Soul,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
Cybotron,
The Modern Lovers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tommy Roe,
Brand Nubian,
Radiopuhelimet,
A Certain Ratio,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Mr. Review,
Pantaleimon,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.