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 Denmark and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dave Gahan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and a chamberlin 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?
Infiniti,
The Move,
Wings,
H. Thieme,
Icehouse,
Warren Ellis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chris & Cosey,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kaleidoscope,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lucky Dragons,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hot Snakes,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Star Department,
One Last Wish,
Donny Hathaway,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mantronix,
Babytalk,
The Raincoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Talk Talk,
The Fugs,
Black Moon,
Livin' Joy,
The J.B.'s,
Rakim,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minutemen,
The Gap Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Rod Modell,
Television Personalities,
Mark Hollis,
48th St. Collective,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Carl Craig,
X-101,
The Cramps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tomorrow,
MDC,
Brand Nubian,
Shoche,
LL Cool J,
The Blackbyrds,
Bobby Womack,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pussy Galore,
Henry Cow,
The Invisible,
Spoonie Gee,
Qualms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aswad,
June of 44,
Bad Manners,
Bob Dylan,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.