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 Singapore and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Urselle to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet 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 clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Slits,
Bluetip,
The Grass Roots,
New Age Steppers,
Janne Schatter,
The Velvet Underground,
Barry Ungar,
Theoretical Girls,
Circle Jerks,
PIL,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Wire,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy Collins,
China Crisis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
Althea and Donna,
Alison Limerick,
Colin Newman,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Mad Mike,
Fatback Band,
Gong,
Carl Craig,
Can,
Moss Icon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sex Pistols,
Country Teasers,
Shuggie Otis,
Wasted Youth,
Darondo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quantec,
Matthew Halsall,
Kas Product,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalann,
The Angels of Light,
Delta 5,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Stooges,
EPMD,
CMW,
Stereo Dub,
The Remains,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Dead C,
Japan,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.