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 Libya and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord 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 organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Dead Boys,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moleskins,
Skriet,
Black Flag,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Residents,
ABBA,
Lightning Bolt,
Franke,
Thee Headcoats,
Marvin Gaye,
Quantec,
Sound Behaviour,
Stereo Dub,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mummies,
The Seeds,
Josef K,
Susan Cadogan,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
Reagan Youth,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Toni Rubio,
Youth Brigade,
Roger Hodgson,
The United States of America,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Gladiators,
The Grass Roots,
Rekid,
Bobby Sherman,
Boz Scaggs,
Accadde A,
Harry Pussy,
The Smiths,
Heaven 17,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Hood,
Judy Mowatt,
Dennis Brown,
Colin Newman,
JFA,
Fad Gadget,
Janne Schatter,
Davy DMX,
Saccharine Trust,
Mantronix,
Anakelly,
Pussy Galore,
The Associates,
Chrome,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.