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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Charles Mingus,
Kaleidoscope,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Frankie Knuckles,
David Bowie,
Hot Snakes,
Basic Channel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fela Kuti,
Moebius,
OOIOO,
Urselle,
Andrew Hill,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Section 25,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Stooges,
Brass Construction,
Essential Logic,
Black Bananas,
The Black Dice,
Nas,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Blossom Toes,
The Birthday Party,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
Soul II Soul,
Arcadia,
June of 44,
Dual Sessions,
Slave,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gong,
Q and Not U,
Dave Gahan,
U.S. Maple,
Fat Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Outsiders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
X-102,
Nils Olav,
Minor Threat,
Eden Ahbez,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harry Pussy,
Index,
Franke,
Dead Boys,
The Last Poets,
The Index,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.