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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and a mellotron 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?
The Fugs,
Kurtis Blow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Machine,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Animal Collective,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Toasters,
Camberwell Now,
Franke,
Lyres,
The Golliwogs,
Depeche Mode,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aloha Tigers,
Arab on Radar,
New York Dolls,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mad Mike,
Todd Rundgren,
The Saints,
Siglo XX,
Cal Tjader,
Terrestrial Tones,
Technova,
Mars,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Slits,
Lungfish,
Don Cherry,
Agitation Free,
Niagra,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Modern Lovers,
Supertramp,
Schoolly D,
Piero Umiliani,
Bush Tetras,
the Association,
Harmonia,
Idris Muhammad,
Letta Mbulu,
The Pretty Things,
Urselle,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Marvin Gaye,
Agent Orange,
The Young Rascals,
Livin' Joy,
Joensuu 1685,
China Crisis,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.