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 Seychelles and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Cowsills to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin 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 chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
The Smiths,
Flipper,
Tres Demented,
Outsiders,
Harmonia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Infiniti,
Newcleus,
The Wake,
China Crisis,
Kaleidoscope,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Country Teasers,
Los Fastidios,
D'Angelo,
The Moody Blues,
The Sonics,
Dead Boys,
Harry Pussy,
a-ha,
Steve Hackett,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q65,
Leonard Cohen,
The Alarm Clocks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echospace,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bob Dylan,
ABC,
Jacques Brel,
Roxette,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mantronix,
The Moleskins,
Marine Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Style,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
X-102,
Gabor Szabo,
Kas Product,
The Knickerbockers,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Piero Umiliani,
The Pretty Things,
Kenny Larkin,
Arthur Verocai,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lower 48,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.