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 Ghana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Brick to the crunk 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord 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 chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Godley & Creme,
Grauzone,
Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Magma,
Ossler,
Visage,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
John Foxx,
Lucky Dragons,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radio Birdman,
Moby Grape,
Bang On A Can,
Rhythm & Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Yaz,
Livin' Joy,
Sex Pistols,
The Moleskins,
The Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rosa Yemen,
Fatback Band,
kango's stein massive,
The Star Department,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sarah Menescal,
Groovy Waters,
K-Klass,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers,
In Retrospect,
Newcleus,
Dead Boys,
Jawbox,
Nico,
Sonic Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Pylon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wasted Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
Derrick May,
The Barracudas,
The Gap Band,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Robert Görl,
The Blackbyrds,
Agitation Free,
Negative Approach,
Audionom,
Procol Harum,
Monolake,
Amazonics,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.