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 Vanuatu and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Wolf Eyes,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Albert Ayler,
the Sonics,
Marc Almond,
Scratch Acid,
Gang Starr,
Hashim,
Lee Hazlewood,
Royal Trux,
Babytalk,
Spandau Ballet,
The Star Department,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Can,
Sun City Girls,
Tres Demented,
the Slits,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang of Four,
Bauhaus,
Blancmange,
Black Sheep,
Black Pus,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Womack,
Guru Guru,
Isaac Hayes,
Saccharine Trust,
Terry Callier,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Moon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Yellowson,
Loose Ends,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pretty Things,
Stiv Bators,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
Aloha Tigers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Darondo,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donny Hathaway,
10cc,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Urselle,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.