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 Togo and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Smog to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum 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 a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Piero Umiliani,
Scrapy,
Henry Cow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crime,
Fela Kuti,
Das Ding,
New York Dolls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cramps,
the Human League,
Con Funk Shun,
Metal Thangz,
Derrick May,
X-Ray Spex,
Nik Kershaw,
ABC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fatback Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Flag,
The Monks,
Chris & Cosey,
Toni Rubio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tears for Fears,
Tom Boy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Intrusion,
Janne Schatter,
Average White Band,
Pierre Henry,
Faraquet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harry Pussy,
Lou Christie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
Fat Boys,
Fear,
Todd Terry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funky Four + One,
The Raincoats,
Bauhaus,
Skarface,
The Skatalites,
Malaria!,
Moby Grape,
Wally Richardson,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Star Department,
In Retrospect,
Visage,
Quadrant,
B.T. Express,
Camberwell Now,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fugs,
Little Man,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.