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 Slovenia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Letta Mbulu to the electroclash 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord 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 sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soul II Soul,
Maurizio,
Alphaville,
Spandau Ballet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Green,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Index,
Marine Girls,
Eddi Front,
Gil Scott Heron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Second Layer,
Throbbing Gristle,
Massinfluence,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Electric Prunes,
Barbara Tucker,
Pagans,
Gong,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cybotron,
Monks,
Peter and Kerry,
Model 500,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Names,
Moebius,
The United States of America,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ituana,
The Moleskins,
Eve St. Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Human League,
Quando Quango,
Bobby Womack,
The Seeds,
Lower 48,
Roxette,
The Pretty Things,
Public Enemy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dead C,
Symarip,
Amon Düül,
Soft Cell,
Lindisfarne,
The Slits,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Clear Light,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Underground Resistance,
the Swans,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.