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 Georgia and from London.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ten City to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet 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 organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Deepchord,
Talk Talk,
Wings,
Fad Gadget,
Swell Maps,
The Fugs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Faraquet,
The Moleskins,
Outsiders,
Khruangbin,
Roy Ayers,
Jacques Brel,
Amazonics,
Erasure,
Skriet,
Motorama,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sugar Minott,
Average White Band,
Rakim,
Skaos,
The Star Department,
The Martian,
Derrick Morgan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hardrive,
X-Ray Spex,
Moebius,
ABBA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
David Axelrod,
The Count Five,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
The Blues Magoos,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Ituana,
OOIOO,
The Velvet Underground,
Grey Daturas,
The Pop Group,
Minor Threat,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rekid,
Unwound,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dirtbombs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Circle Jerks,
Smog,
The Wake,
The Cure,
China Crisis,
X-102,
Brass Construction,
Alison Limerick,
Desert Stars,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.