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 United Kingdom and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Golliwogs to the disco 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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ 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 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
Sandy B,
The Angels of Light,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Real Kids,
Bluetip,
Byron Stingily,
The Misunderstood,
Desert Stars,
Massinfluence,
Godley & Creme,
Soft Cell,
The Gap Band,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
Dead Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hot Snakes,
Terry Callier,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
FM Einheit,
The Trojans,
Liliput,
Procol Harum,
The Motions,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Monks,
Fear,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Freddie Wadling,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Toasters,
Joensuu 1685,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Marmalade,
The Saints,
Au Pairs,
Rotary Connection,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Fall,
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.