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 Vanuatu and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and a güiro 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Max Romeo,
Model 500,
Moss Icon,
John Coltrane,
Terry Callier,
Wire,
Al Stewart,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Germs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Remains,
Angry Samoans,
Dual Sessions,
T. Rex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Pus,
Little Man,
The Victims,
Ten City,
Ice-T,
Flash Fearless,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-102,
World's Most,
Joy Division,
Skriet,
The Buckinghams,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smiths,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Warren Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Nico,
Lou Christie,
Monolake,
Josef K,
Blossom Toes,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Residents,
Eli Mardock,
the Slits,
Khruangbin,
John Cale,
The Happenings,
Porter Ricks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.