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 Marshall Islands and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 Barracudas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
One Last Wish,
CMW,
The Saints,
James White and The Blacks,
Byron Stingily,
Dave Gahan,
Agitation Free,
Morten Harket,
Lightning Bolt,
Saccharine Trust,
Barclay James Harvest,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blake Baxter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Grauzone,
Mandrill,
Monks,
Ossler,
Yazoo,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Warsaw,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fuzztones,
Fela Kuti,
ABBA,
Lou Christie,
Judy Mowatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Cybotron,
Panda Bear,
Iggy Pop,
Eve St. Jones,
Faraquet,
Leonard Cohen,
X-Ray Spex,
Skriet,
Absolute Body Control,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bob Dylan,
Crash Course in Science,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
The Velvet Underground,
Oblivians,
T. Rex,
Chris Corsano,
ABC,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Talk Talk,
Matthew Bourne,
Q65,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.