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 Morocco and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Fire Engines to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 marimba and an oboe 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 mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Lower 48,
Slick Rick,
New Age Steppers,
MC5,
Severed Heads,
Bill Wells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rakim,
Niagra,
Cal Tjader,
Television Personalities,
Jawbox,
Maleditus Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
DNA,
Banda Bassotti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Smoke,
The Beau Brummels,
Country Teasers,
Cheater Slicks,
Popol Vuh,
Tropical Tobacco,
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Hot Snakes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Traffic Nightmare,
Main Source,
Roxy Music,
Quantec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Janne Schatter,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Young Marble Giants,
Soulsonic Force,
the Germs,
E-Dancer,
Sound Behaviour,
Yellowson,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantaleimon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Electric Prunes,
Scientists,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
Brick,
Tears for Fears,
The Remains,
Laurel Aitken,
Faust,
Interpol,
Cecil Taylor,
Silicon Teens,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.