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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the grunge 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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and an arpeggiator 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Camouflage,
Al Stewart,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Q and Not U,
Scratch Acid,
Brick,
Wolf Eyes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Altered Images,
Lyres,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Young Marble Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dual Sessions,
John Coltrane,
Bill Wells,
Swans,
The Pretty Things,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magazine,
Sandy B,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wire,
Cameo,
The Pop Group,
One Last Wish,
Cybotron,
Jandek,
The Sound,
LL Cool J,
Jeff Lynne,
Vladislav Delay,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Easy Going,
Mo-Dettes,
Oneida,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Last Poets,
Popol Vuh,
DNA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gladiators,
The Monks,
the Swans,
The Monochrome Set,
Chris & Cosey,
Moss Icon,
Derrick Morgan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
Half Japanese,
Mr. Review,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.