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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Calgary.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Robert Hood to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dirtbombs,
Pharoah Sanders,
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Absolute Body Control,
Amon Düül II,
Rakim,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantaleimon,
Dennis Brown,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
The Wake,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scan 7,
Babytalk,
Nils Olav,
The Mummies,
Neil Young,
Country Joe & The Fish,
La Düsseldorf,
Cecil Taylor,
Carl Craig,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Sound,
Joy Division,
LL Cool J,
Funky Four + One,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Neon Judgement,
Roxy Music,
Eric Copeland,
The Music Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Guru Guru,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cluster,
Aaron Thompson,
Arcadia,
The Kinks,
The Beau Brummels,
Danielle Patucci,
Jacques Brel,
The Detroit Cobras,
Suicide,
The Evens,
Joyce Sims,
The Associates,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Icehouse,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cymande,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.