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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Depeche Mode to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin 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 mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
Peter & Gordon,
The Moleskins,
The Durutti Column,
Theoretical Girls,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
The Stooges,
The Electric Prunes,
The Index,
Mantronix,
KRS-One,
Infiniti,
Erykah Badu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Martian,
Moebius,
Radiohead,
Quadrant,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pere Ubu,
Warsaw,
Deadbeat,
Scientists,
The United States of America,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Bang On A Can,
Arcadia,
Agent Orange,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Wasted Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Essential Logic,
Minutemen,
The Misunderstood,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Vladislav Delay,
Nico,
Arthur Verocai,
Stiv Bators,
Prince Buster,
Judy Mowatt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Fugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Al Stewart,
Joe Finger,
Rotary Connection,
The Cure,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
Michelle Simonal,
Goldenarms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Normal,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Green,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.