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 Angola and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Marmalade to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer 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 mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
Infiniti,
Skriet,
The Slackers,
Quadrant,
The Victims,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
DJ Style,
Trumans Water,
Warsaw,
Janne Schatter,
The Young Rascals,
X-101,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stetsasonic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scientists,
Cecil Taylor,
Eli Mardock,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kenny Larkin,
One Last Wish,
Byron Stingily,
The Black Dice,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
The Misunderstood,
Marc Almond,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rufus Thomas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane,
The Birthday Party,
Royal Trux,
Gang of Four,
James Chance & The Contortions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Gladiators,
Aaron Thompson,
The Seeds,
Sun City Girls,
Sound Behaviour,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Simply Red,
Guru Guru,
Country Teasers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes, Justin Hinds & The Dominoes.
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.