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 Latvia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 The Star Department to the dance 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator 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 a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Aural Exciters,
Davy DMX,
Interpol,
Wasted Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Idris Muhammad,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rekid,
Warsaw,
The Leaves,
Ohio Players,
John Holt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Excepter,
Clear Light,
Model 500,
Blossom Toes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Max Romeo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ludus,
Henry Cow,
Hoover,
Buzzcocks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Schoolly D,
The Index,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
Alton Ellis,
John Foxx,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers,
Wally Richardson,
Little Man,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Underground Resistance,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Fania All-Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Minutemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Procol Harum,
Thompson Twins,
AZ,
The Cowsills,
June Days,
Flipper,
Con Funk Shun,
Gong,
The Invisible,
The Velvet Underground,
the Bar-Kays,
Fad Gadget,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Organ,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.