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 Tajikistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Average White Band to the grunge 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Man Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Masters at Work,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Black Dice,
Suicide,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Dolphy,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
Nas,
The Gun Club,
Symarip,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott Heron,
Aloha Tigers,
R.M.O.,
Anakelly,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Brass Construction,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
Alison Limerick,
Metal Thangz,
Youth Brigade,
Jeff Mills,
Pagans,
June Days,
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
Gang Green,
New Age Steppers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minny Pops,
Livin' Joy,
Mission of Burma,
Blake Baxter,
Heaven 17,
FM Einheit,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crispian St. Peters,
The New Christs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Last Poets,
Circle Jerks,
The Index,
Lakeside,
Swell Maps,
Spandau Ballet,
Albert Ayler,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
cv313,
Joe Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
Hoover,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
Ludus,
The Residents,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.