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 Algeria and from New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barbara Tucker to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
Deepchord,
The Misunderstood,
Rapeman,
Derrick May,
The Gun Club,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sällskapet,
Arthur Verocai,
Steve Hackett,
The Leaves,
Scientists,
Yellowson,
Agent Orange,
Gang of Four,
The Remains,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Masters at Work,
Andrew Hill,
Excepter,
Model 500,
The Associates,
Youth Brigade,
The Dirtbombs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Black Dice,
Mad Mike,
The Pop Group,
The Sonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Joe Finger,
The Move,
Scan 7,
Suburban Knight,
Freddie Wadling,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Wake,
Janne Schatter,
Gregory Isaacs,
AZ,
The United States of America,
Laurel Aitken,
Erykah Badu,
Eurythmics,
The Barracudas,
Brass Construction,
James White and The Blacks,
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
The Angels of Light,
The Blackbyrds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Pretty Things,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.