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 Latvia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 John Foxx to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Soft Cell,
Faraquet,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Cecil Taylor,
The Associates,
Wally Richardson,
Goldenarms,
Au Pairs,
Jandek,
Boogie Down Productions,
Yazoo,
The Fugs,
Heaven 17,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
The Zeros,
the Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
Sparks,
Ohio Players,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Traffic Nightmare,
Moby Grape,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Shuggie Otis,
Ronan,
The Smoke,
H. Thieme,
David McCallum,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
Dual Sessions,
Howard Jones,
Circle Jerks,
The Names,
The Stooges,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Roy Ayers,
Aural Exciters,
Supertramp,
E-Dancer,
The Monks,
Outsiders,
Bobby Sherman,
The Black Dice,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.