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 Morocco and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eric Copeland to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba 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 organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bronski Beat,
Vladislav Delay,
Mission of Burma,
Sonic Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Heaven 17,
Dawn Penn,
Drive Like Jehu,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jerry's Kids,
Iggy Pop,
Model 500,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fortunes,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane,
Khruangbin,
Blake Baxter,
The Toasters,
Bang On A Can,
Drexciya,
Deepchord,
Circle Jerks,
The Velvet Underground,
Roxette,
Juan Atkins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Swell Maps,
Lou Reed,
The Beau Brummels,
Siglo XX,
Sun City Girls,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Pus,
The Neon Judgement,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Offenders,
Mars,
the Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
Rapeman,
The Martian,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Alton Ellis,
X-102,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Talk Talk,
Lower 48,
Patti Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Junior Murvin,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Agitation Free,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.