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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Pus to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ 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 güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hashim,
Iggy Pop,
Pussy Galore,
Bauhaus,
The Pop Group,
ABC,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Soulsonic Force,
The Slackers,
Crime,
Scion,
Patti Smith,
Moss Icon,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Index,
Monks,
Shoche,
Pharoah Sanders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tomorrow,
The Velvet Underground,
Liliput,
Don Cherry,
Sparks,
This Heat,
Leonard Cohen,
New York Dolls,
Sound Behaviour,
Chris & Cosey,
Bush Tetras,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sugar Minott,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vainqueur,
Heaven 17,
The Tremeloes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mark Hollis,
Surgeon,
JFA,
H. Thieme,
Alice Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Tubeway Army,
Ten City,
The Associates,
Colin Newman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nils Olav,
Soul II Soul,
Audionom,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joyce Sims,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Judy Mowatt,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.