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 Uzbekistan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer 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 guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
DJ Sneak,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tommy Roe,
Scion,
The Slackers,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Residents,
Kerri Chandler,
Kayak,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Flag,
Neil Young,
FM Einheit,
Easy Going,
Gong,
Fela Kuti,
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
Yaz,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
T.S.O.L.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Slits,
Dennis Brown,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL,
Slave,
Max Romeo,
Buzzcocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Excepter,
The Barracudas,
Essential Logic,
Barry Ungar,
Agent Orange,
X-Ray Spex,
Faust,
Minor Threat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
Eden Ahbez,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gap Band,
Mars,
UT,
Cal Tjader,
John Cale,
Ossler,
AZ,
Oneida,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nirvana,
Al Stewart,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.