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 Serbia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Jacques Brel to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
X-101,
World's Most,
Godley & Creme,
Echospace,
Lakeside,
A Certain Ratio,
Altered Images,
MC5,
Technova,
The Birthday Party,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jeff Mills,
Franke,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry's Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Move,
Alison Limerick,
Bauhaus,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
Patti Smith,
Quantec,
Gang Starr,
Darondo,
Camouflage,
Barbara Tucker,
Anthony Braxton,
Pantaleimon,
The Red Krayola,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Maurizio,
Shoche,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fire Engines,
The Grass Roots,
Radiohead,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Brick,
The Modern Lovers,
Blossom Toes,
Mission of Burma,
Matthew Halsall,
Malaria!,
Faraquet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dave Gahan,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.