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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron 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 New Order 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer 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 arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Fall,
MDC,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mark Hollis,
Television,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fela Kuti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Bourne,
Bauhaus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
Morten Harket,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grey Daturas,
Procol Harum,
Eric Dolphy,
The Knickerbockers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacques Brel,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Quadrant,
The Seeds,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names,
Al Stewart,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
These Immortal Souls,
Faraquet,
DJ Style,
New Order,
Lalann,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Outsiders,
Toni Rubio,
Can,
Roxy Music,
Scratch Acid,
Harmonia,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Last Poets,
The Slackers,
World's Most,
Erasure,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.