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 Paraguay and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 CMW to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer 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 rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Au Pairs,
R.M.O.,
Panda Bear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camberwell Now,
Josef K,
Public Enemy,
The Gories,
Sight & Sound,
H. Thieme,
Man Parrish,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marine Girls,
Young Marble Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
The Durutti Column,
Black Sheep,
Gang Starr,
Colin Newman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The United States of America,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Copeland,
John Coltrane,
Robert Hood,
FM Einheit,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Franke,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Sonics,
Peter and Kerry,
Aloha Tigers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dave Gahan,
Porter Ricks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Wings,
Yellowson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Michelle Simonal,
Toni Rubio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Motorama,
The Kinks,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Mark Hollis,
Kurtis Blow,
Excepter,
Buzzcocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cybotron,
Ultra Naté,
Technova,
Blake Baxter,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gladiators,
The Trojans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.