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 Equatorial Guinea and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe 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 guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
Mad Mike,
the Association,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mo-Dettes,
Ossler,
Malaria!,
Warsaw,
Lou Christie,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fuzztones,
Lindisfarne,
The Monks,
Rufus Thomas,
ABBA,
Q and Not U,
Altered Images,
Tears for Fears,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mission of Burma,
The Doors,
Duran Duran,
Kaleidoscope,
Groovy Waters,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Byron Stingily,
Anthony Braxton,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Patti Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scan 7,
DNA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Remains,
Kayak,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Loose Ends,
Lakeside,
Little Man,
Surgeon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bluetip,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Pus,
Dave Gahan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deepchord,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.