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 Madagascar and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the funk 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a snare 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 linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Lindisfarne,
Stiv Bators,
The Leaves,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Country Teasers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-Ray Spex,
Suburban Knight,
Duran Duran,
Von Mondo,
The Busters,
The New Christs,
Sonic Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
The Skatalites,
Scientists,
Little Man,
This Heat,
Sparks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nico,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Beau Brummels,
The Divine Comedy,
Buzzcocks,
DNA,
The Fall,
Tres Demented,
The Remains,
Sugar Minott,
Interpol,
Patti Smith,
Silicon Teens,
Steve Hackett,
Q65,
Prince Buster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Roy Ayers,
Bootsy Collins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maleditus Sound,
Half Japanese,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pagans,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sex Pistols,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grauzone,
Can,
Grey Daturas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.