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 Luxembourg and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Flamin' Groovies to the jazz 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Wings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Soft Cell,
This Heat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Aural Exciters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Charles Mingus,
Jandek,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scrapy,
Japan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Underground Resistance,
Royal Trux,
Faraquet,
CMW,
Sparks,
the Swans,
Duran Duran,
Anthony Braxton,
Danielle Patucci,
A Certain Ratio,
Glambeats Corp.,
X-Ray Spex,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cheater Slicks,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Idris Muhammad,
Tim Buckley,
Soul Sonic Force,
Talk Talk,
Grauzone,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chrome,
The Sound,
Porter Ricks,
DJ Sneak,
Circle Jerks,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Byrd,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Radiohead,
The Martian,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
Essential Logic,
Icehouse,
Warsaw,
Magazine,
Pussy Galore,
the Slits,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.