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 Iran and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 DJ Style to the rock 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ 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 clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
ABBA,
Nick Fraelich,
Deadbeat,
Crispy Ambulance,
Technova,
Nik Kershaw,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Von Mondo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Television Personalities,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fugazi,
the Sonics,
Black Moon,
Judy Mowatt,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Buzzcocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Vladislav Delay,
The Names,
The Fugs,
Terry Callier,
The Litter,
the Slits,
Alphaville,
Fatback Band,
Camouflage,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Toni Rubio,
The Techniques,
The Seeds,
Black Pus,
Dark Day,
The Raincoats,
Schoolly D,
Eve St. Jones,
Kurtis Blow,
Zapp,
Whodini,
Carl Craig,
Television,
Gang Green,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Coltrane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Fear,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
Nirvana,
Jandek,
The Wake,
cv313,
Bluetip,
Yaz,
Deakin,
Grey Daturas,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.