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 Oman and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
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 guitar 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 Howard Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 marimba and a snare 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 güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
The Wake,
Slick Rick,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ossler,
Ohio Players,
Sam Rivers,
Cybotron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultravox,
Arcadia,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harmonia,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Davy DMX,
Sugar Minott,
Ludus,
Alice Coltrane,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
Mark Hollis,
These Immortal Souls,
The United States of America,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Reed,
Guru Guru,
Spandau Ballet,
Joey Negro,
Harpers Bizarre,
Heaven 17,
Rufus Thomas,
The Pretty Things,
Robert Hood,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dead C,
Radio Birdman,
Brand Nubian,
Soul II Soul,
Jawbox,
Bang On A Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bauhaus,
Y Pants,
The Skatalites,
Von Mondo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sex Pistols,
Prince Buster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Index,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Make Up,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.