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 Oman and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Desert Stars to the funk 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Tommy Roe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-Ray Spex,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tom Boy,
The Techniques,
Ossler,
Easy Going,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Josef K,
Marvin Gaye,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Misunderstood,
Marmalade,
Dark Day,
Yellowson,
Barbara Tucker,
Franke,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Main Source,
The Fall,
Unrelated Segments,
Depeche Mode,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Byrd,
EPMD,
Blancmange,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
The Smiths,
The Seeds,
The Cowsills,
Bad Manners,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
Lightning Bolt,
Saccharine Trust,
Dawn Penn,
Alphaville,
Negative Approach,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hashim,
Fela Kuti,
David Axelrod,
Funky Four + One,
Alice Coltrane,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Mummies,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Divine Comedy,
The Smoke,
Vladislav Delay,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.