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 Taiwan and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Anthony Braxton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb 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 güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Todd Rundgren,
Tommy Roe,
AZ,
The Blues Magoos,
Y Pants,
Bang On A Can,
Ken Boothe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Invisible,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deepchord,
Sister Nancy,
The Gories,
Absolute Body Control,
CMW,
Lou Reed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Main Source,
Todd Terry,
Ohio Players,
Grey Daturas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blossom Toes,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Josef K,
MDC,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Frankie Knuckles,
X-102,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
The Velvet Underground,
The Residents,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
Neu!,
The Monks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stiv Bators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soul II Soul,
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
Bauhaus,
Altered Images,
Aswad,
Delta 5,
the Fania All-Stars,
Skriet,
The Trojans,
New Order,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.