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 Sweden and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum 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 linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Subhumans,
Bang On A Can,
Das Ding,
Urselle,
the Association,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
Judy Mowatt,
Andrew Hill,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mantronix,
Slick Rick,
Aaron Thompson,
D'Angelo,
Panda Bear,
Piero Umiliani,
Babytalk,
Black Flag,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Human League,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
The Detroit Cobras,
LL Cool J,
The Busters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joyce Sims,
Kenny Larkin,
Mr. Review,
The Fortunes,
Sex Pistols,
Byron Stingily,
EPMD,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blancmange,
Essential Logic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jesper Dahlback,
Morten Harket,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lakeside,
Gong,
Malaria!,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerri Chandler,
Brothers Johnson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Connie Case,
Jeff Lynne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.