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 Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 The Fortunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro 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 arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Drive Like Jehu,
Gang Green,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
FM Einheit,
Jeff Lynne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
Judy Mowatt,
Scrapy,
Morten Harket,
Joe Smooth,
Deadbeat,
The Index,
Black Moon,
Bill Wells,
Negative Approach,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marmalade,
Flipper,
Nick Fraelich,
Warren Ellis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stereo Dub,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Metal Thangz,
Radiohead,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Desert Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Sällskapet,
Boz Scaggs,
Dave Gahan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Starr,
Q and Not U,
Soft Machine,
The Sound,
Lou Reed,
Pussy Galore,
Ornette Coleman,
Bizarre Inc.,
Duran Duran,
The Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bush Tetras,
Interpol,
Porter Ricks,
The Selecter,
Nico,
Bang On A Can,
Fat Boys,
Panda Bear,
The Gories,
Michelle Simonal,
Don Cherry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter,
La Düsseldorf,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.