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 Czech Republic and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 guitar 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 Crime to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Barry Ungar,
The Moleskins,
Bad Manners,
F. McDonald,
John Foxx,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oblivians,
Lightning Bolt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Glambeats Corp.,
New York Dolls,
Masters at Work,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
JFA,
Joensuu 1685,
Freddie Wadling,
Letta Mbulu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Duran Duran,
Cal Tjader,
Pagans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Amon Düül II,
Clear Light,
Scrapy,
The Names,
Bronski Beat,
Matthew Bourne,
Goldenarms,
Joe Finger,
10cc,
The J.B.'s,
The Barracudas,
Q65,
Porter Ricks,
Symarip,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
Anakelly,
Thompson Twins,
Sandy B,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
New Order,
Public Image Ltd.,
World's Most,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Hood,
Ken Boothe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
48th St. Collective,
Rufus Thomas,
Outsiders,
Japan,
Josef K,
Rekid,
Basic Channel,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.