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 Saudi Arabia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Kinks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin 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 oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Johnny Clarke,
Cal Tjader,
Fugazi,
Bob Dylan,
Scrapy,
Au Pairs,
Aural Exciters,
Goldenarms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moby Grape,
The Five Americans,
The Names,
Fela Kuti,
Icehouse,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David Axelrod,
The Misunderstood,
The Fall,
Don Cherry,
The Trojans,
Oneida,
Sound Behaviour,
Flash Fearless,
Minutemen,
Chrome,
The Velvet Underground,
The Durutti Column,
The Stooges,
Davy DMX,
The Techniques,
H. Thieme,
Panda Bear,
Josef K,
The Pop Group,
The Selecter,
Brass Construction,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boredoms,
the Slits,
Marine Girls,
Fluxion,
Public Enemy,
Eddi Front,
Joey Negro,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Q65,
CMW,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faraquet,
The Sonics,
F. McDonald,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
the Bar-Kays,
Eric Dolphy,
Livin' Joy,
The Red Krayola,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.