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 Bahrain and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Mad Mike to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe 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 mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
the Soft Cell,
Adolescents,
Tubeway Army,
Stetsasonic,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
Lightning Bolt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dual Sessions,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Surgeon,
Man Parrish,
Archie Shepp,
The Tremeloes,
Peter and Kerry,
The Saints,
The Golliwogs,
Patti Smith,
Essential Logic,
Andrew Hill,
Groovy Waters,
Dennis Brown,
Scrapy,
The Sound,
Zapp,
Black Flag,
DJ Style,
Kayak,
Byron Stingily,
The Standells,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Joy Division,
Roger Hodgson,
Echospace,
Nation of Ulysses,
New Age Steppers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra,
Qualms,
Mandrill,
Eli Mardock,
Ohio Players,
Max Romeo,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suicide,
Bootsy Collins,
cv313,
Ten City,
The Doobie Brothers,
China Crisis,
the Germs,
Sex Pistols,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.