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 Nauru and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Gregory Isaacs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
CMW,
cv313,
Nico,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marcia Griffiths,
kango's stein massive,
Jesper Dahlback,
F. McDonald,
Groovy Waters,
John Lydon,
The Young Rascals,
Colin Newman,
K-Klass,
Gang of Four,
The Names,
Stiv Bators,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick Morgan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Vogues,
UT,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wolf Eyes,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Hardrive,
Rufus Thomas,
Buzzcocks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warsaw,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy Collins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scion,
T. Rex,
Barbara Tucker,
Bobby Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Evens,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Busters,
Livin' Joy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
E-Dancer,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
PIL,
Terry Callier,
Eli Mardock,
The Human League,
Eve St. Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
DJ Sneak,
Flash Fearless,
Altered Images,
Todd Terry,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.