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 Antigua and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang Gang Dance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum 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 güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
The Slackers,
Fat Boys,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Au Pairs,
Brick,
Juan Atkins,
Todd Terry,
The Gun Club,
Tres Demented,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Saccharine Trust,
Pantytec,
Scientists,
Procol Harum,
Dual Sessions,
Shoche,
The Evens,
Tim Buckley,
Unwound,
Jeff Mills,
Chris Corsano,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crime,
Supertramp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Janne Schatter,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monolake,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
Skriet,
Idris Muhammad,
Ice-T,
Curtis Mayfield,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sun City Girls,
Steve Hackett,
U.S. Maple,
Organ,
Metal Thangz,
The Kinks,
Ohio Players,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gories,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Leonard Cohen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grauzone,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Parry Music,
Talk Talk,
kango's stein massive,
Crispian St. Peters,
Agent Orange,
Morten Harket,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.