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 France and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dawn Penn to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kurtis Blow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Country Teasers,
Hardrive,
PIL,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alice Coltrane,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Harpers Bizarre,
It's A Beautiful Day,
X-102,
Gang Starr,
Stereo Dub,
Pantytec,
Fela Kuti,
The Gun Club,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Motorama,
Prince Buster,
Eve St. Jones,
Cluster,
The Saints,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
Rekid,
Lalann,
Laurel Aitken,
The Black Dice,
The Names,
Eli Mardock,
Pole,
Quando Quango,
The Happenings,
Panda Bear,
Make Up,
The Leaves,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
Niagra,
AZ,
Rakim,
Q and Not U,
Wally Richardson,
Royal Trux,
Patti Smith,
Andrew Hill,
Stetsasonic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mo-Dettes,
Fugazi,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Youth Brigade,
Gang of Four,
Intrusion,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.