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 Mauritius and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 DJ Style to the electroclash 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Surgeon,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Black Dice,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minnie Riperton,
The Doors,
The Happenings,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Swans,
Morten Harket,
Tom Boy,
The Kinks,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Hill,
L. Decosne,
Pantaleimon,
Yellowson,
Average White Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Durutti Column,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The New Christs,
The Neon Judgement,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Al Stewart,
kango's stein massive,
The Shadows of Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Arab on Radar,
The Young Rascals,
X-102,
Ossler,
Nils Olav,
The Leaves,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
Saccharine Trust,
Main Source,
The Slackers,
The Cure,
Avey Tare,
The Five Americans,
Duran Duran,
Eli Mardock,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Charles Mingus,
Ohio Players,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Bootsy Collins,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.