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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rapeman to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Kaleidoscope,
Agitation Free,
Camouflage,
Lee Hazlewood,
EPMD,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Misunderstood,
Josef K,
Oneida,
Iggy Pop,
Dennis Brown,
The Fuzztones,
Janne Schatter,
Vladislav Delay,
Wings,
Parry Music,
Rotary Connection,
The Dirtbombs,
The Golliwogs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Thompson Twins,
Minny Pops,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Au Pairs,
Isaac Hayes,
The Kinks,
Robert Hood,
Sarah Menescal,
Amazonics,
The Martian,
Khruangbin,
Black Pus,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Franke,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
Inner City,
The American Breed,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hasil Adkins,
Dark Day,
Aloha Tigers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Symarip,
The Gladiators,
Joe Finger,
Quadrant,
The Victims,
The Fortunes,
Soft Machine,
Simply Red,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Mr. Review,
Von Mondo,
Rapeman,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.