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 Laos and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Arab on Radar to the techno 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 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 marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erykah Badu,
The Trojans,
Intrusion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zero Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rod Modell,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
The Selecter,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aaron Thompson,
Cheater Slicks,
June of 44,
Parry Music,
Swell Maps,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Aural Exciters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dead Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sister Nancy,
Television Personalities,
the Bar-Kays,
Cabaret Voltaire,
D'Angelo,
Laurel Aitken,
Agent Orange,
Pulsallama,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Country Teasers,
Mad Mike,
Little Man,
The Walker Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
Skaos,
The Birthday Party,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
Metal Thangz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Clear Light,
Panda Bear,
Quantec,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Copeland,
Faust,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.