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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Sexual Harrassment,
Organ,
Buzzcocks,
The Zeros,
Marcia Griffiths,
Curtis Mayfield,
Index,
Harmonia,
Tom Boy,
Grey Daturas,
The Selecter,
Eric Copeland,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Seeds,
Fad Gadget,
Black Pus,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jawbox,
The Young Rascals,
Robert Görl,
Hot Snakes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lindisfarne,
Drexciya,
Minor Threat,
Roxy Music,
The Blues Magoos,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angry Samoans,
Joe Smooth,
Smog,
This Heat,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Boogie Down Productions,
Essential Logic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blake Baxter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Davy DMX,
Suicide,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
The Red Krayola,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Standells,
Symarip,
The Smiths,
Technova,
Barry Ungar,
Prince Buster,
Procol Harum,
LL Cool J,
Reuben Wilson,
Al Stewart,
Bluetip,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.