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 Belize and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Peter and Kerry to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience 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 techno 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 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 chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
F. McDonald,
The Raincoats,
Theoretical Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Ten City,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rakim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Fluxion,
Sparks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Johnny Clarke,
The Move,
Peter & Gordon,
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
Marine Girls,
Swell Maps,
Warsaw,
Pet Shop Boys,
In Retrospect,
Sällskapet,
Ohio Players,
Donald Byrd,
Dark Day,
Boredoms,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Starr,
Von Mondo,
Henry Cow,
The Black Dice,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deakin,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Sound Behaviour,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Inner City,
Rites of Spring,
Young Marble Giants,
Loose Ends,
The Walker Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Altered Images,
Echospace,
Pussy Galore,
Fatback Band,
Sam Rivers,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus,
Ossler,
UT,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fortunes,
Saccharine Trust,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.