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 Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the jazz 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things 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 rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb 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 oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Q65,
Soul II Soul,
Procol Harum,
Archie Shepp,
Wally Richardson,
Hardrive,
The Gories,
H. Thieme,
The Cramps,
Japan,
E-Dancer,
a-ha,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yusef Lateef,
Harmonia,
EPMD,
Oblivians,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
Albert Ayler,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Dawn Penn,
Anthony Braxton,
Gong,
Stetsasonic,
Second Layer,
The Cure,
Quadrant,
the Sonics,
The Smiths,
Guru Guru,
Scion,
Joey Negro,
The Music Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rites of Spring,
Das Ding,
Buzzcocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ronnie Foster,
This Heat,
Derrick Morgan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Animal Collective,
Sparks,
The Searchers,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Hutcherson,
ABC,
Intrusion,
Swell Maps,
Connie Case,
The Divine Comedy,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.