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 Ethiopia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Sandy B,
ABC,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Visage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joy Division,
John Holt,
Magazine,
the Normal,
The Real Kids,
Q and Not U,
One Last Wish,
Organ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Japan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Terry Callier,
Lebanon Hanover,
Los Fastidios,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
John Coltrane,
The Index,
Monks,
Outsiders,
Wings,
Mark Hollis,
Donny Hathaway,
Mandrill,
Heaven 17,
Desert Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ossler,
Cal Tjader,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
The Victims,
Interpol,
Hot Snakes,
Pantytec,
Delta 5,
Crooked Eye,
Derrick May,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mo-Dettes,
Slick Rick,
Ice-T,
Alphaville,
Black Pus,
10cc,
T. Rex,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.