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 Mongolia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Certain Ratio to the dance 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Light Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb 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 a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Gang Green,
The Toasters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
The Cramps,
Cameo,
Pussy Galore,
Bob Dylan,
EPMD,
Byron Stingily,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
the Fania All-Stars,
Vladislav Delay,
Sixth Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bauhaus,
New Order,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amon Düül II,
the Association,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sound Behaviour,
Mars,
H. Thieme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joyce Sims,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Wyatt,
Skriet,
Reagan Youth,
Jandek,
The Golliwogs,
MC5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kurtis Blow,
Joe Smooth,
Massinfluence,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angry Samoans,
Subhumans,
Echospace,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jawbox,
Harpers Bizarre,
CMW,
Mr. Review,
New Age Steppers,
Talk Talk,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ice-T,
Anthony Braxton,
Metal Thangz,
Cecil Taylor,
The Sonics,
The Kinks,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.