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 Turkmenistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Danielle Patucci to the crunk 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Suburban Knight,
Babytalk,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Flag,
One Last Wish,
The Gories,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Pylon,
The Victims,
Harry Pussy,
Magma,
The Knickerbockers,
Youth Brigade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Buzzcocks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terry Callier,
Joe Finger,
Yellowson,
John Foxx,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Walker Brothers,
Whodini,
Crooked Eye,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skarface,
Kerri Chandler,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Hashim,
Arcadia,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Lynne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DJ Sneak,
The Pretty Things,
Absolute Body Control,
Metal Thangz,
The Five Americans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Schoolly D,
The Golliwogs,
Sight & Sound,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
The Offenders,
Faust,
Simply Red,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Electric Prunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.