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 Sierra Leone and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Nirvana 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar 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 synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
U.S. Maple,
The Seeds,
10cc,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Near,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DNA,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Intrusion,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bad Manners,
Patti Smith,
Brand Nubian,
The Litter,
Warsaw,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gichy Dan,
Rotary Connection,
The Kinks,
Jandek,
L. Decosne,
Tears for Fears,
One Last Wish,
Slick Rick,
Godley & Creme,
Quantec,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Names,
Ten City,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Zeros,
Deepchord,
Scott Walker,
The Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
the Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Arthur Verocai,
Index,
Jeff Lynne,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
The United States of America,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Mills,
Josef K,
Marvin Gaye,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.