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 Armenia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Public Enemy,
Soulsonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Fluxion,
New Age Steppers,
Deakin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Don Cherry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marvin Gaye,
Siglo XX,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sister Nancy,
Terry Callier,
Average White Band,
John Lydon,
David Bowie,
DJ Style,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Holt,
Unwound,
Thee Headcoats,
The Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
Popol Vuh,
Symarip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Monolake,
Das Ding,
Trumans Water,
Quantec,
Television,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Görl,
Mr. Review,
Matthew Bourne,
Leonard Cohen,
Blancmange,
CMW,
Pole,
Radiohead,
Donald Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Pylon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swans,
Blossom Toes,
The Motions,
the Germs,
Neil Young,
Wasted Youth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Organ,
Soft Cell,
Eden Ahbez,
Supertramp,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.