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 Taiwan and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin 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 Guru Guru to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Hasil Adkins. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 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 sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Maurizio,
Essential Logic,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Görl,
Roger Hodgson,
David Axelrod,
L. Decosne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scratch Acid,
Skarface,
The Raincoats,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Remains,
Parry Music,
The Dirtbombs,
Sister Nancy,
June of 44,
Spoonie Gee,
Tomorrow,
Swans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-Ray Spex,
the Swans,
Bad Manners,
Easy Going,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Cure,
Anthony Braxton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Bowie,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fluxion,
Eli Mardock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Normal,
Jawbox,
Ossler,
JFA,
Rekid,
a-ha,
The Toasters,
Jacques Brel,
Masters at Work,
These Immortal Souls,
Leonard Cohen,
The Evens,
Black Pus,
Groovy Waters,
Black Bananas,
Stiv Bators,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Liliput,
Barbara Tucker,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Slits,
The Walker Brothers,
The Cowsills,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.