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 Croatia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Brick,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
Gang of Four,
Massinfluence,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mad Mike,
Television,
Oneida,
Shoche,
Yazoo,
Sight & Sound,
Moebius,
Lindisfarne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
The Fire Engines,
Crime,
Minor Threat,
Alton Ellis,
Marvin Gaye,
Main Source,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Görl,
The New Christs,
Alphaville,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Second Layer,
John Holt,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soul II Soul,
Jawbox,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté,
The Divine Comedy,
June Days,
New York Dolls,
The Five Americans,
Country Teasers,
Au Pairs,
Bush Tetras,
Babytalk,
Wally Richardson,
The Young Rascals,
Stiv Bators,
Isaac Hayes,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rakim,
Basic Channel,
Pylon,
Dark Day,
The Gun Club,
Hashim,
The Blues Magoos,
China Crisis,
The Dirtbombs,
Malaria!,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.