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 Djibouti and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Piero Umiliani to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Colin Newman. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a clarinet 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 sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Tim Buckley,
The New Christs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joy Division,
Piero Umiliani,
The Star Department,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Erykah Badu,
Agitation Free,
Guru Guru,
This Heat,
The Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Seeds,
B.T. Express,
Outsiders,
Ossler,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Cheater Slicks,
Nico,
The Mojo Men,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Boogie Down Productions,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Young Rascals,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lalo Schifrin,
Monolake,
Magma,
Max Romeo,
Johnny Clarke,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronnie Foster,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
One Last Wish,
Surgeon,
The Cure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Arthur Verocai,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tom Boy,
The Fortunes,
Freddie Wadling,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Tres Demented,
Barry Ungar,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.