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 Cuba and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crime to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
The Skatalites,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
Circle Jerks,
Marvin Gaye,
Flamin' Groovies,
Letta Mbulu,
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eden Ahbez,
Drexciya,
The Leaves,
Brand Nubian,
June of 44,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cramps,
Deakin,
This Heat,
The Index,
Aswad,
Mantronix,
Essential Logic,
Robert Hood,
Zero Boys,
Brothers Johnson,
The New Christs,
Scion,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Freddie Wadling,
Charles Mingus,
Minny Pops,
The Fall,
The J.B.'s,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Dead Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
T. Rex,
Desert Stars,
Altered Images,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moebius,
Ten City,
Erykah Badu,
Talk Talk,
The Victims,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Leonard Cohen,
Donald Byrd,
John Cale,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Con Funk Shun,
The Human League,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.