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 San Marino and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Mummies to the grime 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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar 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 linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yazoo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rekid,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
Motorama,
X-102,
June of 44,
Electric Prunes,
Black Moon,
Moss Icon,
Masters at Work,
MC5,
Kerrie Biddell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Althea and Donna,
The Stooges,
Minnie Riperton,
The Toasters,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cybotron,
Mark Hollis,
Faraquet,
OOIOO,
The Birthday Party,
Scrapy,
Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Visage,
Piero Umiliani,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Japan,
Brothers Johnson,
Lalann,
Nico,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tubeway Army,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Golliwogs,
Maurizio,
Rod Modell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispy Ambulance,
Minor Threat,
Marmalade,
AZ,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.