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 Trinidad & Tobago and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 MDC 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
K-Klass,
Todd Terry,
Altered Images,
Television,
Motorama,
Byron Stingily,
Sex Pistols,
The Gun Club,
Jimmy McGriff,
Derrick Morgan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
The Doors,
These Immortal Souls,
Aswad,
Blossom Toes,
Black Pus,
Suicide,
Spoonie Gee,
Ohio Players,
Joensuu 1685,
ABC,
Johnny Osbourne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marvin Gaye,
The Fugs,
Al Stewart,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fire Engines,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
June Days,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Slave,
Bobby Byrd,
Lucky Dragons,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Walker Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Bill Near,
Main Source,
Thee Headcoats,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David McCallum,
Soul Sonic Force,
Barrington Levy,
Donald Byrd,
Heaven 17,
One Last Wish,
Panda Bear,
Half Japanese,
Toni Rubio,
Gang of Four,
Spandau Ballet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Visage,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
Chrome,
The Slits,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.