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 Malaysia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Deadbeat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet 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 clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
The J.B.'s,
Connie Case,
Marc Almond,
Black Moon,
Vainqueur,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scott Walker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Monochrome Set,
Joey Negro,
Junior Murvin,
Index,
Hardrive,
Lou Christie,
Eric Dolphy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Trumans Water,
Graham Central Station,
Barrington Levy,
Q65,
Eric Copeland,
The Toasters,
The Velvet Underground,
Carl Craig,
Michelle Simonal,
Tom Boy,
Jerry's Kids,
John Cale,
Arab on Radar,
John Holt,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Man Parrish,
Drexciya,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sister Nancy,
Pere Ubu,
Faust,
Mandrill,
Vladislav Delay,
The Modern Lovers,
The Motions,
Dennis Brown,
Interpol,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gap Band,
T.S.O.L.,
R.M.O.,
Circle Jerks,
Mantronix,
Althea and Donna,
Lee Hazlewood,
Parry Music,
Zapp,
Amon Düül II,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Soft Cell,
Kool Moe Dee,
Guru Guru,
A Certain Ratio,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.