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 Nigeria and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Throbbing Gristle to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb 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 synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Althea and Donna,
Terry Callier,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monolake,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fatback Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bang On A Can,
the Sonics,
Amazonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Zeros,
Boredoms,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Y Pants,
Fear,
T.S.O.L.,
The Doors,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Christie,
The Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Bronski Beat,
FM Einheit,
The Grass Roots,
Carl Craig,
Pylon,
The Monochrome Set,
Crooked Eye,
Bobby Sherman,
World's Most,
Kenny Larkin,
Blancmange,
Pharoah Sanders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
U.S. Maple,
Robert Hood,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
The Young Rascals,
the Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Bluetip,
Magma,
Ronan,
Visage,
Rotary Connection,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oblivians,
Kas Product,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ten City,
Nick Fraelich,
H. Thieme,
The Mojo Men,
The Divine Comedy,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.