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 Morocco and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the crunk 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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb 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?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Aural Exciters,
DJ Style,
Reuben Wilson,
Mark Hollis,
Ten City,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun City Girls,
Vainqueur,
Minor Threat,
Nick Fraelich,
LL Cool J,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Grass Roots,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Fugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monolake,
Nik Kershaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lee Hazlewood,
Saccharine Trust,
The Associates,
Throbbing Gristle,
Funkadelic,
Prince Buster,
Ponytail,
Erasure,
The Move,
Jimmy McGriff,
Man Parrish,
Brand Nubian,
Tom Boy,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Slits,
Guru Guru,
the Swans,
The Neon Judgement,
The Mummies,
Joy Division,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
Lucky Dragons,
Depeche Mode,
Fatback Band,
Rapeman,
Drexciya,
Archie Shepp,
Piero Umiliani,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slackers,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Sexual Harrassment,
Excepter,
Moby Grape,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kas Product,
Tubeway Army,
Technova,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.