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 Philippines and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Index to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum 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 linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tommy Roe,
Peter & Gordon,
Swell Maps,
The Mummies,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Remains,
Flash Fearless,
Scan 7,
Skriet,
Roxy Music,
Porter Ricks,
The Zeros,
Throbbing Gristle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
X-102,
The Music Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Blancmange,
Dawn Penn,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Oneida,
Main Source,
Hashim,
Mo-Dettes,
Barry Ungar,
T.S.O.L.,
June of 44,
The Walker Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Toni Rubio,
Jacob Miller,
Pere Ubu,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
The Slackers,
One Last Wish,
Trumans Water,
The Doors,
Eric Copeland,
Vainqueur,
John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
Cal Tjader,
The Wake,
Amazonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fluxion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cybotron,
Arcadia,
Das Ding,
Ituana,
Duran Duran,
Piero Umiliani,
Ossler,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.