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 Mozambique and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sugar Minott to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Johnny Clarke,
Black Flag,
Slick Rick,
June of 44,
Average White Band,
Tomorrow,
Bronski Beat,
Bob Dylan,
The Young Rascals,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
The Moleskins,
The Invisible,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
Bang On A Can,
Model 500,
Bad Manners,
Scan 7,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scientists,
Soul Sonic Force,
The New Christs,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
X-101,
Tim Buckley,
Delta 5,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kenny Larkin,
The J.B.'s,
Crooked Eye,
John Foxx,
Maurizio,
Motorama,
David Bowie,
Crime,
Theoretical Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
The Electric Prunes,
Mandrill,
Prince Buster,
D'Angelo,
Donny Hathaway,
Connie Case,
Bootsy Collins,
The Knickerbockers,
Ice-T,
China Crisis,
the Soft Cell,
Althea and Donna,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Christie,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.