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 Laos and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispy Ambulance to the techno 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a guitar 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 harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Lou Reed,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
Ken Boothe,
Wally Richardson,
MDC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Juan Atkins,
Chris Corsano,
Arcadia,
Sam Rivers,
Ronan,
Cheater Slicks,
Parry Music,
the Human League,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronnie Foster,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DNA,
Pulsallama,
Grauzone,
Gang Gang Dance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brick,
The Stooges,
The Last Poets,
LL Cool J,
Rekid,
The Blues Magoos,
David McCallum,
the Bar-Kays,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Technova,
Scientists,
Donny Hathaway,
Arthur Verocai,
Negative Approach,
Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
Black Flag,
Suburban Knight,
Ludus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
In Retrospect,
B.T. Express,
Index,
Lyres,
Chris & Cosey,
Supertramp,
Fluxion,
Harmonia,
Eden Ahbez,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bush Tetras,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.