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 Colombia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Jeru the Damaja to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes 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 synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Porter Ricks,
Kaleidoscope,
Jacques Brel,
Bronski Beat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Charles Mingus,
John Foxx,
Rapeman,
Zapp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Interpol,
Nirvana,
Bobby Byrd,
Yazoo,
the Association,
One Last Wish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radio Birdman,
The Last Poets,
Lower 48,
Khruangbin,
Vainqueur,
Ultravox,
New Age Steppers,
Silicon Teens,
Isaac Hayes,
The Black Dice,
Judy Mowatt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Au Pairs,
the Soft Cell,
Skarface,
Accadde A,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marmalade,
Aloha Tigers,
X-102,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Siglo XX,
Kerrie Biddell,
ABC,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doors,
Alton Ellis,
EPMD,
Matthew Halsall,
Dark Day,
Sandy B,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pylon,
Fatback Band,
Funkadelic,
The Red Krayola,
AZ,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.