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 Mexico and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Blues Magoos to the rock 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a rhodes 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 harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bush Tetras,
Whodini,
Porter Ricks,
Mr. Review,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Darondo,
Eden Ahbez,
Das Ding,
Wolf Eyes,
Tears for Fears,
JFA,
Josef K,
10cc,
Suburban Knight,
Warren Ellis,
Country Teasers,
Pylon,
The Selecter,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kayak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rekid,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Don Cherry,
Gang Green,
The American Breed,
Jerry's Kids,
Moebius,
Spoonie Gee,
Ultravox,
John Foxx,
The Standells,
Negative Approach,
Todd Terry,
Nick Fraelich,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cure,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brand Nubian,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Toasters,
Yusef Lateef,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Jimmy McGriff,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Crash Course in Science,
the Sonics,
The Electric Prunes,
Loose Ends,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.