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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Porter Ricks to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb 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 spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Big Daddy Kane,
Niagra,
The Victims,
The Vogues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Busters,
Malaria!,
Jerry's Kids,
Khruangbin,
Sister Nancy,
Cymande,
Deadbeat,
Aloha Tigers,
Eli Mardock,
Minny Pops,
FM Einheit,
AZ,
Icehouse,
The Mojo Men,
Das Ding,
Minnie Riperton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Symarip,
Mission of Burma,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris & Cosey,
Pulsallama,
Junior Murvin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Half Japanese,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smiths,
the Association,
The Associates,
the Swans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Derrick May,
Black Bananas,
Schoolly D,
Cheater Slicks,
Magma,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Au Pairs,
The Cure,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rekid,
Gong,
Johnny Clarke,
Moebius,
Delta 5,
Erykah Badu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Walker Brothers,
Surgeon,
Sparks,
Unrelated Segments,
Siglo XX,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.