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 Mali and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Hasil Adkins 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Wake,
Pierre Henry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camouflage,
Donald Byrd,
Jacques Brel,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rufus Thomas,
Roger Hodgson,
Byron Stingily,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lakeside,
X-102,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
China Crisis,
Lucky Dragons,
The Grass Roots,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DNA,
Boz Scaggs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Little Man,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
Desert Stars,
Y Pants,
Gong,
Patti Smith,
Joy Division,
Hashim,
Quadrant,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sparks,
The Stooges,
Nation of Ulysses,
Peter & Gordon,
The Litter,
Pagans,
Pylon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Colin Newman,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
Vainqueur,
Juan Atkins,
Arcadia,
U.S. Maple,
Aaron Thompson,
Monks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.