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 Comoros and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Big Daddy Kane to the rap 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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Dennis Brown,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
Prince Buster,
Television Personalities,
Easy Going,
Kerrie Biddell,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
Skaos,
Severed Heads,
X-102,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Symarip,
Sixth Finger,
Godley & Creme,
OOIOO,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Aural Exciters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Barry Ungar,
Altered Images,
Schoolly D,
Fad Gadget,
Sister Nancy,
The Tremeloes,
Whodini,
The Mummies,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Music Machine,
Fugazi,
Joyce Sims,
Suicide,
Jeff Mills,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Offenders,
Angry Samoans,
U.S. Maple,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Siglo XX,
Model 500,
The Modern Lovers,
Harpers Bizarre,
T.S.O.L.,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cowsills,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
Black Moon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül II,
Pantaleimon,
FM Einheit,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.