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 Ghana and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the grime 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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and a snare 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 sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amon Düül II,
Ludus,
Minor Threat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
Quadrant,
Underground Resistance,
Main Source,
These Immortal Souls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pole,
Max Romeo,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
K-Klass,
Television,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Moby Grape,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smiths,
Prince Buster,
Minutemen,
Dual Sessions,
Soft Cell,
Amon Düül,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scientists,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Spoonie Gee,
The Wake,
Dawn Penn,
Pierre Henry,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
Byron Stingily,
Dark Day,
Erasure,
The Barracudas,
Eddi Front,
Derrick Morgan,
Fad Gadget,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Thompson Twins,
Cecil Taylor,
48th St. Collective,
Metal Thangz,
Swell Maps,
Pantytec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echospace,
The Walker Brothers,
Organ,
Adolescents,
Jawbox,
The Misunderstood,
Electric Prunes,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.