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 Costa Rica and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pierre Henry to the rock 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar 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 guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Bush Tetras,
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Grauzone,
FM Einheit,
Johnny Clarke,
Amon Düül,
Surgeon,
Porter Ricks,
Radiohead,
Mandrill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
One Last Wish,
Yaz,
Siglo XX,
Derrick Morgan,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
John Lydon,
The Human League,
Suburban Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
Vladislav Delay,
Buzzcocks,
Camouflage,
Patti Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Young Marble Giants,
Janne Schatter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Mills,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Johnny Osbourne,
T.S.O.L.,
Morten Harket,
Ludus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Quantec,
Symarip,
Joey Negro,
Peter and Kerry,
OOIOO,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Womack,
Bauhaus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jandek,
The Vogues,
The Gladiators,
Colin Newman,
The Zeros,
Guru Guru,
Icehouse,
The Buckinghams,
PIL,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.