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 Bangladesh and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Suburban Knight to the jazz 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Hot Snakes,
Adolescents,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sugar Minott,
The Cramps,
JFA,
Eden Ahbez,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Faust,
The Seeds,
Black Flag,
Interpol,
H. Thieme,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sixth Finger,
ABC,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Red Krayola,
Roxette,
Roger Hodgson,
Jandek,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
R.M.O.,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth,
Inner City,
The Motions,
The Leaves,
Gang Green,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nation of Ulysses,
Section 25,
Vladislav Delay,
Arab on Radar,
Bill Wells,
Maurizio,
The Trojans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aural Exciters,
Amazonics,
Godley & Creme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Human League,
Erasure,
Babytalk,
Jeru the Damaja,
The J.B.'s,
Zapp,
One Last Wish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.