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 Nigeria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Juan Atkins. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin 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 marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
Godley & Creme,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tommy Roe,
Jacob Miller,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bluetip,
Nico,
Lalo Schifrin,
Severed Heads,
Barclay James Harvest,
Soft Machine,
Oneida,
Anakelly,
Neu!,
Pet Shop Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
The Index,
Pulsallama,
Ludus,
Alton Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Loose Ends,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
LL Cool J,
Nils Olav,
Urselle,
Rod Modell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fad Gadget,
Stiv Bators,
Dead Boys,
Arab on Radar,
Black Flag,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Altered Images,
Silicon Teens,
The Techniques,
Schoolly D,
Fear,
Sandy B,
Malaria!,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Clarke,
Scan 7,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
Massinfluence,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Easy Going,
Zapp,
Radiohead,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.