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 Brazil and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mumbai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the rap 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a 808 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 linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Stooges,
Mandrill,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare,
Wire,
Patti Smith,
The Litter,
Public Enemy,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minnie Riperton,
The Victims,
Lower 48,
Bang On A Can,
Au Pairs,
John Holt,
Brothers Johnson,
Sound Behaviour,
Man Eating Sloth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Modern Lovers,
JFA,
Camouflage,
Barry Ungar,
The Star Department,
Masters at Work,
Parry Music,
Gichy Dan,
The Cramps,
Curtis Mayfield,
Godley & Creme,
The Slackers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Barracudas,
the Soft Cell,
Smog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scratch Acid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Altered Images,
Lee Hazlewood,
Negative Approach,
Organ,
The Angels of Light,
The Move,
Procol Harum,
Mark Hollis,
Hot Snakes,
the Association,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun Ra,
Tubeway Army,
Faust,
Warsaw,
The Blues Magoos,
Malaria!,
Icehouse,
Mad Mike,
Marine Girls,
The Gun Club,
Pylon,
Camberwell Now,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.