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 Antigua and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Anakelly to the grunge 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 The American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum 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 güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Stereo Dub,
Eric Dolphy,
Dead Boys,
Erykah Badu,
Pussy Galore,
The Slackers,
Qualms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bauhaus,
Boredoms,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cameo,
Funkadelic,
Symarip,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
Roxy Music,
Alphaville,
Nils Olav,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Arcadia,
Soft Cell,
Connie Case,
Howard Jones,
AZ,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mad Mike,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marc Almond,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Colin Newman,
Peter and Kerry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bluetip,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eurythmics,
Amazonics,
The Gories,
The Selecter,
Mantronix,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sällskapet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moss Icon,
Marmalade,
The Gap Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joensuu 1685,
New Age Steppers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.