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 Belgium and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Livin' Joy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 a theremin and a marimba 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 güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Rapeman,
The Dirtbombs,
Gang Starr,
Second Layer,
Section 25,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cybotron,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Silicon Teens,
The Neon Judgement,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rakim,
Soulsonic Force,
Theoretical Girls,
The Vogues,
Joensuu 1685,
Don Cherry,
Al Stewart,
The Knickerbockers,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gabor Szabo,
Animal Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Radio Birdman,
The J.B.'s,
Dead Boys,
The Selecter,
One Last Wish,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
Scott Walker,
Yazoo,
Arab on Radar,
Peter & Gordon,
The Black Dice,
Fugazi,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sexual Harrassment,
Young Marble Giants,
Darondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Stiv Bators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roger Hodgson,
Howard Jones,
Pole,
Little Man,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
ABBA,
Sugar Minott,
Grauzone,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.