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 Montenegro and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gun Club to the rock 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a theremin 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 theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Pulsallama,
Dave Gahan,
Royal Trux,
The Red Krayola,
The Buckinghams,
Sound Behaviour,
China Crisis,
Crash Course in Science,
Janne Schatter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Whodini,
Fela Kuti,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Swans,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Barrington Levy,
Intrusion,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bronski Beat,
Man Parrish,
New Age Steppers,
Davy DMX,
Tim Buckley,
Reagan Youth,
Connie Case,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Delta 5,
Arab on Radar,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pere Ubu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brass Construction,
Goldenarms,
The Mummies,
David Axelrod,
Idris Muhammad,
The Standells,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Babytalk,
Roger Hodgson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Average White Band,
Nirvana,
Yazoo,
Toni Rubio,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sun Ra,
Blake Baxter,
Moss Icon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rotary Connection,
Public Enemy,
Scratch Acid,
The Victims,
John Holt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.