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 Slovenia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Cal Tjader,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Ornette Coleman,
Bluetip,
Janne Schatter,
F. McDonald,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Divine Comedy,
The Kinks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Andrew Hill,
Hasil Adkins,
Brass Construction,
The Associates,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Monks,
Roxy Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun City Girls,
The Wake,
Byron Stingily,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Saccharine Trust,
The Selecter,
Mission of Burma,
Fatback Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Dave Gahan,
The Raincoats,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Flipper,
Sugar Minott,
Radiohead,
H. Thieme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Hood,
Joe Smooth,
Cymande,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
The Index,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Duran Duran,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dennis Brown,
Gerry Rafferty,
T.S.O.L.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Althea and Donna,
Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
The Names,
FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit, FM Einheit.
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.