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 Bulgaria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Dorothy Ashby 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet 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 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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 United States of America,
The Fugs,
Erasure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terry Callier,
Yusef Lateef,
Accadde A,
John Coltrane,
The Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeff Mills,
Amon Düül II,
Cybotron,
Mark Hollis,
Scott Walker,
Black Pus,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Freddie Wadling,
Camberwell Now,
Saccharine Trust,
Unrelated Segments,
EPMD,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Black Flag,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pop Group,
Iggy Pop,
The Trojans,
Zero Boys,
Section 25,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tubeway Army,
Ten City,
The Index,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
Eurythmics,
Shoche,
Guru Guru,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Boredoms,
Lakeside,
Rosa Yemen,
Pere Ubu,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Last Poets,
CMW,
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Pagans,
Barry Ungar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Albert Ayler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fad Gadget,
The New Christs,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.