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 Grenada and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 Frankie Knuckles to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum 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?
Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lalann,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
One Last Wish,
These Immortal Souls,
Inner City,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Althea and Donna,
Ronan,
The Real Kids,
Fear,
Joyce Sims,
Ten City,
Q and Not U,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dawn Penn,
The Martian,
Scrapy,
AZ,
The Velvet Underground,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
MC5,
Public Enemy,
Moss Icon,
Sound Behaviour,
Lakeside,
Dennis Brown,
H. Thieme,
Funkadelic,
The Red Krayola,
Tim Buckley,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Foxx,
Eve St. Jones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Isaac Hayes,
Todd Terry,
New York Dolls,
X-102,
Mark Hollis,
Alphaville,
the Bar-Kays,
The Offenders,
Bang On A Can,
Swans,
Anthony Braxton,
Fad Gadget,
Harry Pussy,
The Busters,
Spoonie Gee,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crash Course in Science,
Todd Rundgren,
Susan Cadogan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.