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 Denmark and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Walker Brothers to the grunge 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 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 arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Marc Almond,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bauhaus,
The Names,
Gregory Isaacs,
Pagans,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Das Ding,
The Moody Blues,
Amon Düül,
Joensuu 1685,
JFA,
LL Cool J,
The Remains,
The Dirtbombs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
ABC,
Little Man,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cameo,
Barry Ungar,
Cymande,
Grey Daturas,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Andrew Hill,
Sister Nancy,
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
H. Thieme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Roy Ayers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Magma,
Ice-T,
The Doors,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
ABBA,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gap Band,
Aural Exciters,
The Tremeloes,
Royal Trux,
Scott Walker,
Lou Christie,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Nas,
Whodini,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.