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 Antigua and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
June of 44,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lower 48,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
The Barracudas,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cure,
Iggy Pop,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vainqueur,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sarah Menescal,
This Heat,
Public Enemy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lou Reed,
Supertramp,
Nils Olav,
The Angels of Light,
kango's stein massive,
Blossom Toes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Pretty Things,
The Busters,
Organ,
The Grass Roots,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Real Kids,
Bluetip,
Mark Hollis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Faraquet,
Pylon,
Joe Smooth,
Kayak,
Motorama,
Isaac Hayes,
New Order,
Liliput,
Monks,
Alton Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Womack,
DJ Style,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oneida,
MDC,
Dave Gahan,
Moby Grape,
Scientists,
Kevin Saunderson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Grauzone,
The Tremeloes,
Wings,
The Young Rascals,
Gang of Four,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Residents,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.