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 Grenada and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 Liliput to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a snare 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Liliput,
the Bar-Kays,
The Move,
Organ,
The Victims,
Danielle Patucci,
Howard Jones,
The Names,
Franke,
Yaz,
The Misunderstood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Accadde A,
EPMD,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
Quadrant,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sixth Finger,
L. Decosne,
James White and The Blacks,
Yazoo,
Dead Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
The Offenders,
Gastr Del Sol,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
Anakelly,
Soulsonic Force,
Model 500,
The Mojo Men,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sonic Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
Supertramp,
Leonard Cohen,
Sarah Menescal,
Con Funk Shun,
Juan Atkins,
Tom Boy,
The Raincoats,
Rod Modell,
Joe Smooth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boz Scaggs,
Roxette,
Slave,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brass Construction,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
UT,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.