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 the UAE and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Dolphy to the grime 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb 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 harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Flash Fearless,
Cluster,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
Todd Terry,
Quando Quango,
the Bar-Kays,
Maurizio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultravox,
Easy Going,
The Fall,
T.S.O.L.,
Chris & Cosey,
The Offenders,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Saints,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave,
Monolake,
Basic Channel,
OOIOO,
Franke,
Vladislav Delay,
Soulsonic Force,
The American Breed,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joyce Sims,
K-Klass,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dead C,
John Foxx,
Funkadelic,
Scott Walker,
Banda Bassotti,
Rites of Spring,
The Gun Club,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
CMW,
Harmonia,
Agent Orange,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Make Up,
Archie Shepp,
Barry Ungar,
The Martian,
The Vogues,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Tremeloes,
The Sonics,
Joe Smooth,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Wells,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.