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 Oman and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe 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 oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
The Index,
Howard Jones,
Soul II Soul,
Simply Red,
Hot Snakes,
Minutemen,
The Stooges,
Masters at Work,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
Gang of Four,
Rufus Thomas,
Barry Ungar,
Echospace,
Crispian St. Peters,
Severed Heads,
Chris & Cosey,
Massinfluence,
Reagan Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythm & Sound,
Television,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mark Hollis,
The Divine Comedy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Bootsy Collins,
Babytalk,
Parry Music,
Josef K,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Electric Prunes,
Letta Mbulu,
AZ,
Scan 7,
The Modern Lovers,
Los Fastidios,
EPMD,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
Jeru the Damaja,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fad Gadget,
Fluxion,
the Soft Cell,
Fatback Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Clear Light,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
Dave Gahan,
The Five Americans,
The Neon Judgement,
Ken Boothe,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dark Day,
Siglo XX,
Henry Cow,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.