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 Grenada and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soul Sonic Force to the funk 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and an oboe 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 arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
Mars,
Erykah Badu,
H. Thieme,
Lee Hazlewood,
The J.B.'s,
Sonny Sharrock,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Monks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Josef K,
Rotary Connection,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Golliwogs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Alice Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Scan 7,
The Residents,
Danielle Patucci,
Brothers Johnson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harmonia,
Radiopuhelimet,
Slave,
Mantronix,
Soft Machine,
Mission of Burma,
Heaven 17,
Scott Walker,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chris Corsano,
Steve Hackett,
Underground Resistance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DJ Style,
Trumans Water,
Half Japanese,
Monolake,
Todd Rundgren,
Patti Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Evens,
Terry Callier,
Zapp,
Radio Birdman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Symarip,
Deepchord,
John Cale,
Eric Copeland,
Sight & Sound,
Ronan,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.