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 Czech Republic and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Nils Olav to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer 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 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Bootsy Collins,
John Lydon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crime,
Althea and Donna,
Thee Headcoats,
Mark Hollis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Donny Hathaway,
Derrick May,
Heaven 17,
Gang Starr,
Rotary Connection,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roxy Music,
The Cure,
Josef K,
The Sound,
The Raincoats,
The Skatalites,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dead Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Silicon Teens,
June Days,
Dennis Brown,
The Red Krayola,
Television Personalities,
EPMD,
Goldenarms,
the Association,
The Alarm Clocks,
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lou Reed,
Stetsasonic,
Electric Prunes,
Matthew Halsall,
The Happenings,
Blossom Toes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Anthony Braxton,
Khruangbin,
Interpol,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roger Hodgson,
Metal Thangz,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Hill,
Rosa Yemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Public Enemy,
The Seeds,
Cheater Slicks,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.