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 Macedonia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Fad Gadget to the rock 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro 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 synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantaleimon,
the Swans,
Urselle,
Silicon Teens,
Darondo,
Leonard Cohen,
Fat Boys,
Tom Boy,
Malaria!,
cv313,
Ornette Coleman,
Susan Cadogan,
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Peter & Gordon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ossler,
New York Dolls,
Unwound,
Vainqueur,
The Litter,
Barbara Tucker,
The Associates,
Y Pants,
James White and The Blacks,
Davy DMX,
Scrapy,
Jesper Dahlback,
the Fania All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Panda Bear,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Green,
The Searchers,
China Crisis,
Chrome,
Jeff Mills,
the Germs,
Fluxion,
Dual Sessions,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delon & Dalcan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Almond,
Soft Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Freddie Wadling,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mummies,
Mark Hollis,
Blossom Toes,
David McCallum,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.