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 Bangladesh and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Steve Hackett to the disco 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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator 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 theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
Minor Threat,
Heaven 17,
Flash Fearless,
The Blackbyrds,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
Neu!,
Lakeside,
Deakin,
Godley & Creme,
Jandek,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick Morgan,
Unwound,
Symarip,
Aswad,
Technova,
The Velvet Underground,
Kenny Larkin,
Juan Atkins,
The Cowsills,
B.T. Express,
Cymande,
Sällskapet,
Quando Quango,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lower 48,
Joe Finger,
Ultra Naté,
The Moleskins,
Easy Going,
Scientists,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barry Ungar,
FM Einheit,
Can,
Idris Muhammad,
Supertramp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blake Baxter,
Janne Schatter,
The Five Americans,
Soft Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ken Boothe,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moebius,
Interpol,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.