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 El Salvador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Loose Ends to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord 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 snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radio Birdman,
The Slackers,
The Invisible,
Niagra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pylon,
Crime,
Radiohead,
Judy Mowatt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ultra Naté,
Marine Girls,
Yaz,
Intrusion,
Motorama,
Delon & Dalcan,
Hasil Adkins,
Heaven 17,
Accadde A,
Wally Richardson,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric B and Rakim,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
R.M.O.,
The Gun Club,
Stereo Dub,
Todd Terry,
Cecil Taylor,
Joey Negro,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
Crash Course in Science,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Danielle Patucci,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
Au Pairs,
Blancmange,
Deadbeat,
Bob Dylan,
Ultravox,
Derrick May,
Q65,
KRS-One,
Masters at Work,
Sonic Youth,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pantaleimon,
Tears for Fears,
Unrelated Segments,
Tres Demented,
The Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Walker Brothers,
Surgeon,
UT,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.