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 Albania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Ten City,
The Knickerbockers,
Basic Channel,
Monks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mars,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
Barbara Tucker,
Symarip,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
Wings,
Tim Buckley,
Dual Sessions,
Faust,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eurythmics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angry Samoans,
The Smiths,
Hasil Adkins,
The Searchers,
The Tremeloes,
Brick,
Kenny Larkin,
Marmalade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Neu!,
Faraquet,
China Crisis,
Tom Boy,
Quando Quango,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
Masters at Work,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eve St. Jones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scratch Acid,
Erasure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Organ,
Fatback Band,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moody Blues,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
Charles Mingus,
Boz Scaggs,
K-Klass,
Ronnie Foster,
Silicon Teens,
Michelle Simonal,
PIL,
Leonard Cohen,
The Toasters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.