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 Andorra and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 London and New York.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the electroclash 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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar 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 marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Warren Ellis,
Kenny Larkin,
cv313,
Procol Harum,
Janne Schatter,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Tears for Fears,
The Move,
Anakelly,
Kool Moe Dee,
Icehouse,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Joey Negro,
Minnie Riperton,
Rites of Spring,
E-Dancer,
Angry Samoans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
Man Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Groovy Waters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soft Cell,
Q and Not U,
Second Layer,
Smog,
Scion,
Jawbox,
Loose Ends,
Brick,
Wire,
Franke,
The Smiths,
Half Japanese,
Ten City,
Black Sheep,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Funkadelic,
Camberwell Now,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Andrew Hill,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Velvet Underground,
Accadde A,
Tomorrow,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Steve Hackett,
Country Teasers,
Ornette Coleman,
Bootsy Collins,
Model 500,
Hoover,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.