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 Belarus and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Donald Byrd 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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Reagan Youth,
John Lydon,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris & Cosey,
Reuben Wilson,
Kayak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gang Starr,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stetsasonic,
Marvin Gaye,
New Age Steppers,
The Remains,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Cymande,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Leaves,
The Birthday Party,
ABC,
The Busters,
Carl Craig,
Hasil Adkins,
Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
Banda Bassotti,
X-Ray Spex,
Skaos,
The Walker Brothers,
D'Angelo,
Fugazi,
Half Japanese,
Bush Tetras,
Ronan,
Suicide,
Joe Smooth,
Erykah Badu,
La Düsseldorf,
Lungfish,
Steve Hackett,
New York Dolls,
Piero Umiliani,
Echospace,
Yazoo,
Bootsy Collins,
Slick Rick,
The Litter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Spandau Ballet,
Absolute Body Control,
The Red Krayola,
The Music Machine,
ABBA,
Black Moon,
Flipper,
Derrick Morgan,
Darondo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-101,
Howard Jones,
David Axelrod,
The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans, The Five Americans.
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.