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 Austria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Barbara Tucker. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer 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 guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Velvet Underground,
Fela Kuti,
The Gladiators,
The Techniques,
Liliput,
The Sonics,
The Mummies,
Ice-T,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
Erasure,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smoke,
Whodini,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Toasters,
Chris Corsano,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare,
The Evens,
Masters at Work,
Rhythm & Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
Dave Gahan,
The Barracudas,
Minnie Riperton,
Iggy Pop,
Mars,
Mantronix,
Scott Walker,
Peter & Gordon,
Arcadia,
China Crisis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
U.S. Maple,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fatback Band,
Fear,
The Real Kids,
Zero Boys,
Slave,
Boogie Down Productions,
MDC,
Audionom,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sarah Menescal,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Interpol,
Danielle Patucci,
Leonard Cohen,
Second Layer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.