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 Palau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Real Kids 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Metal Thangz,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dark Day,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
David McCallum,
Fear,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angry Samoans,
Aloha Tigers,
the Bar-Kays,
Model 500,
Camouflage,
The Golliwogs,
Yaz,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
The Fuzztones,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gregory Isaacs,
T.S.O.L.,
Subhumans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Gang Green,
Make Up,
The Walker Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Scan 7,
Sister Nancy,
Mandrill,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Siglo XX,
Flash Fearless,
Byron Stingily,
Curtis Mayfield,
Eric Dolphy,
Pulsallama,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Wake,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marcia Griffiths,
LL Cool J,
Symarip,
Peter & Gordon,
Slave,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brand Nubian,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.