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 Algeria and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Brick to the techno 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Count Five,
The Skatalites,
Ohio Players,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
KRS-One,
Mo-Dettes,
Bad Manners,
Heaven 17,
Television,
Rekid,
Rotary Connection,
the Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ornette Coleman,
The Grass Roots,
Circle Jerks,
Ultra Naté,
Tropical Tobacco,
Althea and Donna,
John Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Darondo,
Blossom Toes,
Black Pus,
Quadrant,
Connie Case,
The Doors,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crispian St. Peters,
New York Dolls,
Yazoo,
EPMD,
Johnny Osbourne,
Amazonics,
Bill Near,
Soul Sonic Force,
Davy DMX,
June Days,
Derrick May,
Erasure,
Y Pants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Mojo Men,
Los Fastidios,
David Bowie,
The Evens,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sparks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yellowson,
The Fire Engines,
Deadbeat,
Arab on Radar,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
The Selecter,
Ice-T,
These Immortal Souls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.