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 South Africa and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Swans to the funk 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord 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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
June Days,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fela Kuti,
Agitation Free,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Young Rascals,
The Seeds,
Dennis Brown,
Blake Baxter,
Alison Limerick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Green,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Second Layer,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Supertramp,
Prince Buster,
Marine Girls,
Albert Ayler,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Cale,
Minor Threat,
Whodini,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Althea and Donna,
Wolf Eyes,
The J.B.'s,
Lalann,
The Smiths,
Godley & Creme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fortunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ten City,
Procol Harum,
The Martian,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Womack,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gap Band,
Minutemen,
Amazonics,
Lou Christie,
The Last Poets,
The Grass Roots,
Colin Newman,
Terry Callier,
Cheater Slicks,
D'Angelo,
Lindisfarne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.