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 Armenia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Marvin Gaye to the electroclash 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Faust,
Q and Not U,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Coltrane,
The New Christs,
The Doors,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Neon Judgement,
Quadrant,
Bobby Sherman,
Guru Guru,
Visage,
Gregory Isaacs,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bob Dylan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Quando Quango,
Mr. Review,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kurtis Blow,
The Names,
DJ Sneak,
Country Teasers,
Magma,
Talk Talk,
Al Stewart,
48th St. Collective,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young,
John Cale,
L. Decosne,
Pere Ubu,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
The Pretty Things,
Vainqueur,
Bill Near,
Minnie Riperton,
Joensuu 1685,
Niagra,
Darondo,
DNA,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
The Five Americans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Warren Ellis,
Zero Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee,
Smog,
Bobby Byrd,
Basic Channel,
Bill Wells,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.