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 Finland and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Max Romeo to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator 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 synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Rufus Thomas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Colin Newman,
Albert Ayler,
Faust,
Aswad,
The Buckinghams,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pagans,
Jacques Brel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Godley & Creme,
Rapeman,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roxy Music,
Theoretical Girls,
Wings,
Harmonia,
Bootsy Collins,
Camouflage,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bizarre Inc.,
T.S.O.L.,
Junior Murvin,
Swell Maps,
Moss Icon,
Steve Hackett,
John Cale,
H. Thieme,
Derrick May,
Pantytec,
The Seeds,
Black Sheep,
Wire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Wake,
Oblivians,
Animal Collective,
Dave Gahan,
The J.B.'s,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
Graham Central Station,
Dawn Penn,
Man Parrish,
David McCallum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Patti Smith,
Loose Ends,
Tomorrow,
The Remains,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Raincoats,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.