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 Costa Rica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
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 arpeggiator 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 Tim Buckley to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba 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 oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Jacques Brel,
Wolf Eyes,
The Seeds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ice-T,
Dead Boys,
Rotary Connection,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Barracudas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sight & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Judy Mowatt,
Depeche Mode,
The Young Rascals,
The Divine Comedy,
The Monks,
David Bowie,
The Dead C,
Section 25,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eli Mardock,
Desert Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Brass Construction,
the Sonics,
The Gories,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Trojans,
Amon Düül,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Move,
Goldenarms,
Cecil Taylor,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Misunderstood,
Mars,
Roger Hodgson,
Idris Muhammad,
Essential Logic,
Blossom Toes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Coltrane,
The Busters,
Intrusion,
Pussy Galore,
Scan 7,
Monolake,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Crash Course in Science,
Pere Ubu,
The Mummies,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dual Sessions,
Half Japanese,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.