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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Joy Division to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Josef K,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Seeds,
Iggy Pop,
These Immortal Souls,
The Associates,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Barry Ungar,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stereo Dub,
The Raincoats,
Section 25,
The Human League,
Icehouse,
Radio Birdman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mary Jane Girls,
Duran Duran,
Smog,
Rotary Connection,
Mo-Dettes,
Camouflage,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ohio Players,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rod Modell,
Suicide,
The Blackbyrds,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Red Krayola,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rakim,
Kenny Larkin,
The Neon Judgement,
JFA,
Kayak,
Reagan Youth,
Trumans Water,
X-101,
Warsaw,
Charles Mingus,
Tommy Roe,
The Gap Band,
Cybotron,
Toni Rubio,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Althea and Donna,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.