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 South Sudan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet 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 oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
The Flesh Eaters,
Young Marble Giants,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yaz,
Trumans Water,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
Bauhaus,
Eve St. Jones,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Das Ding,
Minny Pops,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
Agitation Free,
The Doobie Brothers,
Au Pairs,
Circle Jerks,
The Smoke,
Television Personalities,
Shoche,
The Index,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eric Copeland,
Infiniti,
Donny Hathaway,
Monks,
June of 44,
The Selecter,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dead C,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash,
Patti Smith,
Sparks,
Barbara Tucker,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Durutti Column,
Tim Buckley,
Alphaville,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Scion,
Intrusion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Seeds,
Babytalk,
The Slackers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Danielle Patucci,
The Walker Brothers,
Scan 7,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.