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 Liberia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the sitar 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 Marmalade to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and an oboe 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 arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Animal Collective,
Harry Pussy,
The Blues Magoos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Buckinghams,
Con Funk Shun,
Gil Scott Heron,
Depeche Mode,
Moss Icon,
L. Decosne,
Faraquet,
Cluster,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Association,
Fugazi,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deepchord,
Ponytail,
In Retrospect,
Gong,
Steve Hackett,
Popol Vuh,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang of Four,
Unwound,
Country Teasers,
Avey Tare,
The Busters,
Anthony Braxton,
Robert Görl,
John Cale,
MC5,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suburban Knight,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
Leonard Cohen,
Hashim,
Joyce Sims,
Pulsallama,
Dead Boys,
Ten City,
AZ,
Simply Red,
World's Most,
Japan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Moleskins,
Visage,
John Foxx,
Gang Gang Dance,
Hasil Adkins,
Qualms,
The Martian,
Motorama,
Delon & Dalcan,
Half Japanese,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.