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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moby Grape to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Gang of Four,
The Fugs,
Scan 7,
Spoonie Gee,
Minnie Riperton,
Surgeon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Altered Images,
Fela Kuti,
Soul II Soul,
Sixth Finger,
Albert Ayler,
Max Romeo,
Skriet,
Excepter,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Grass Roots,
Banda Bassotti,
Easy Going,
Lalann,
Faraquet,
The Modern Lovers,
Ronnie Foster,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Saints,
Suicide,
Darondo,
Blancmange,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
Arab on Radar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Make Up,
Gong,
Mission of Burma,
Mars,
Grauzone,
The Pop Group,
Outsiders,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Niagra,
Thompson Twins,
Rod Modell,
Wally Richardson,
Skaos,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faust,
Roy Ayers,
Alphaville,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.