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 Senegal and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Index to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
Letta Mbulu,
Josef K,
Lindisfarne,
48th St. Collective,
Urselle,
Loose Ends,
The Dead C,
Ash Ra Tempel,
DJ Sneak,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Public Enemy,
Franke,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
The Human League,
Kayak,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Easy Going,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scion,
Joyce Sims,
Black Moon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Albert Ayler,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jeff Lynne,
Make Up,
Cecil Taylor,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moody Blues,
Clear Light,
Juan Atkins,
This Heat,
The Fugs,
Liliput,
Faraquet,
Grey Daturas,
PIL,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
X-Ray Spex,
The Trojans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funkadelic,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.