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 Papua New Guinea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the theremin 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 Guru Guru to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Maleditus Sound,
Motorama,
The Selecter,
Malaria!,
Godley & Creme,
Oblivians,
Scratch Acid,
Chris Corsano,
Tommy Roe,
Ituana,
The Dave Clark Five,
Icehouse,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Silicon Teens,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Monochrome Set,
Harry Pussy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
The Music Machine,
The Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Big Daddy Kane,
This Heat,
Section 25,
Unwound,
China Crisis,
Pantytec,
Piero Umiliani,
Warsaw,
Absolute Body Control,
Boredoms,
The Electric Prunes,
Fad Gadget,
Lindisfarne,
Grey Daturas,
Rufus Thomas,
Aaron Thompson,
Sixth Finger,
Gang of Four,
Al Stewart,
Kayak,
The Gories,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang On A Can,
Erykah Badu,
Althea and Donna,
Dennis Brown,
Alison Limerick,
Inner City,
Alton Ellis,
Iggy Pop,
The Mojo Men,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.