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 Saudi Arabia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes 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 Amazonics to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Sonny Sharrock,
Interpol,
The Gun Club,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Invisible,
Average White Band,
Urselle,
Fela Kuti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Steve Hackett,
The Standells,
Dead Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Y Pants,
Dual Sessions,
Cymande,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fortunes,
Sonic Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Black Dice,
Freddie Wadling,
Malaria!,
Graham Central Station,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kas Product,
Roxy Music,
Chris & Cosey,
Niagra,
Ice-T,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
Oblivians,
Eric Dolphy,
the Swans,
The American Breed,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Harpers Bizarre,
Metal Thangz,
Colin Newman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tomorrow,
Underground Resistance,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
Guru Guru,
Silicon Teens,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
Skaos,
Cluster,
Erykah Badu,
Hashim,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Hood,
Unwound,
Sam Rivers,
Joensuu 1685,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scratch Acid,
Roger Hodgson,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.