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 Malta and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Görl,
The Beau Brummels,
Fat Boys,
Ohio Players,
Bush Tetras,
Royal Trux,
The Zeros,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Derrick Morgan,
La Düsseldorf,
Theoretical Girls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
Lightning Bolt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang of Four,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Names,
The Wake,
Brand Nubian,
Infiniti,
Man Parrish,
Smog,
UT,
Severed Heads,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
The Vogues,
Qualms,
Mad Mike,
Make Up,
Bill Wells,
Vladislav Delay,
Unwound,
Hashim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
China Crisis,
MC5,
Half Japanese,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Hot Snakes,
CMW,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alison Limerick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Pere Ubu,
Blossom Toes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fela Kuti,
Aswad,
Moss Icon,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Real Kids,
Robert Hood,
The Standells,
New York Dolls,
Dennis Brown,
June Days,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.