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 Philippines 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Deadbeat to the grunge 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bad Manners,
Malaria!,
Sixth Finger,
Essential Logic,
Sexual Harrassment,
Symarip,
The Pretty Things,
Camouflage,
Joe Finger,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marcia Griffiths,
Arcadia,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shoche,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
Scrapy,
Hoover,
Crash Course in Science,
Drexciya,
B.T. Express,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Neu!,
FM Einheit,
Pylon,
The Smoke,
Magazine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aloha Tigers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gastr Del Sol,
Patti Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Silicon Teens,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Martian,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Circle Jerks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Talk Talk,
Public Enemy,
Newcleus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
The Young Rascals,
Bill Wells,
Icehouse,
New Order,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The J.B.'s,
Darondo,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.