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 Gabon and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Warren Ellis to the crunk 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 The Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a rhodes 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 spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Doors,
Morten Harket,
The Blackbyrds,
Y Pants,
Flipper,
Lungfish,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Suburban Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Faraquet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Moebius,
Livin' Joy,
Monks,
Roy Ayers,
The Wake,
Alton Ellis,
Brand Nubian,
Max Romeo,
Jeff Mills,
Kenny Larkin,
Laurel Aitken,
Pagans,
The New Christs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minnie Riperton,
Reuben Wilson,
Leonard Cohen,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
K-Klass,
L. Decosne,
Crime,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yusef Lateef,
The Birthday Party,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Animal Collective,
Infiniti,
Johnny Osbourne,
Youth Brigade,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
Flamin' Groovies,
Spoonie Gee,
Aswad,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Green,
Mantronix,
Stockholm Monsters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Axelrod,
Camberwell Now,
Josef K,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.