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 Croatia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Das Ding to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Todd Rundgren,
Cecil Taylor,
X-102,
Terry Callier,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter & Gordon,
Aloha Tigers,
The Busters,
Magma,
Isaac Hayes,
Pagans,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
kango's stein massive,
Jacques Brel,
Rakim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare,
The Divine Comedy,
The Fuzztones,
Newcleus,
Darondo,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Hood,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cymande,
Nico,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Swell Maps,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
X-101,
Skarface,
Qualms,
World's Most,
Nas,
Girls At Our Best!,
a-ha,
Bauhaus,
The Techniques,
The Gladiators,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Freddie Wadling,
Scott Walker,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joy Division,
Soul Sonic Force,
Man Parrish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yaz,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
Icehouse,
Pussy Galore,
Flipper,
Ituana,
Motorama,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.