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 Belarus and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gabor Szabo to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pop Group,
Japan,
Maurizio,
Wasted Youth,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ultravox,
The Dead C,
Magma,
Freddie Wadling,
Trumans Water,
the Bar-Kays,
Thompson Twins,
The Red Krayola,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tomorrow,
Index,
The Count Five,
Slave,
Young Marble Giants,
Lucky Dragons,
The Mummies,
Smog,
Patti Smith,
Clear Light,
Robert Görl,
Sandy B,
Laurel Aitken,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Offenders,
Roy Ayers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slackers,
Warren Ellis,
Erasure,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eddi Front,
Todd Terry,
Stetsasonic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Matthew Halsall,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Dirtbombs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funky Four + One,
Crash Course in Science,
Stereo Dub,
The Cure,
Steve Hackett,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Howard Jones,
The Gap Band,
Excepter,
The Index,
Minor Threat,
Jawbox,
Black Bananas,
Lindisfarne,
Cybotron,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.