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 Niger and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Toni Rubio to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an oboe 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 guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Simply Red,
Buzzcocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Model 500,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Barry Ungar,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Evens,
Yazoo,
Stiv Bators,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Panda Bear,
Minny Pops,
Warren Ellis,
Alice Coltrane,
Brand Nubian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Thee Headcoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
Goldenarms,
Eurythmics,
The Sonics,
The Pretty Things,
The Misunderstood,
Dawn Penn,
The Saints,
Grandmaster Flash,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
R.M.O.,
The Litter,
Malaria!,
The Cure,
The J.B.'s,
Soulsonic Force,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mark Hollis,
Sister Nancy,
Audionom,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Henry Cow,
Mantronix,
Bill Wells,
Ossler,
The Kinks,
Anthony Braxton,
New Age Steppers,
Banda Bassotti,
Sex Pistols,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.