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 Brunei and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Bobby Womack to the punk 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Trumans Water,
Quando Quango,
Livin' Joy,
Groovy Waters,
Wolf Eyes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lungfish,
The Count Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Delta 5,
Derrick Morgan,
The Red Krayola,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The United States of America,
The Dead C,
Talk Talk,
Saccharine Trust,
Ossler,
The Smiths,
JFA,
Scan 7,
The Saints,
Grauzone,
Rekid,
Soft Cell,
Ice-T,
the Sonics,
Sister Nancy,
Roxette,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cecil Taylor,
Judy Mowatt,
Piero Umiliani,
Scientists,
Donald Byrd,
Ten City,
Jeff Mills,
Kenny Larkin,
Rufus Thomas,
Section 25,
Deakin,
Average White Band,
Grey Daturas,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Das Ding,
B.T. Express,
Dave Gahan,
U.S. Maple,
Angry Samoans,
Qualms,
Marmalade,
Slave,
Joensuu 1685,
Arthur Verocai,
Soul II Soul,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Youth Brigade,
Brand Nubian,
DNA,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.