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 Canada and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Girls At Our Best! to the rap 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Unwound,
This Heat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Faraquet,
Hashim,
Popol Vuh,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sonics,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Interpol,
John Holt,
Rapeman,
Second Layer,
Susan Cadogan,
Yellowson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Moebius,
Sällskapet,
World's Most,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Amon Düül II,
Yazoo,
The Gories,
Don Cherry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Hot Snakes,
These Immortal Souls,
F. McDonald,
Pantytec,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
Dead Boys,
Maurizio,
Nik Kershaw,
Darondo,
Judy Mowatt,
Y Pants,
Robert Görl,
Black Pus,
Panda Bear,
Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Kayak,
Lakeside,
Kas Product,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
The Remains,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun City Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.