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 Laos and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 DJ Sneak to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer 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 marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Black Dice,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pierre Henry,
Hasil Adkins,
Minor Threat,
Suburban Knight,
Fear,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sarah Menescal,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Arab on Radar,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Second Layer,
Malaria!,
K-Klass,
Donny Hathaway,
Mr. Review,
Cluster,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Mummies,
The Angels of Light,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Joensuu 1685,
Niagra,
The Gories,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Rakim,
The Names,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
The Mojo Men,
Sam Rivers,
Tom Boy,
Alphaville,
The Fire Engines,
Sound Behaviour,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Smog,
Fat Boys,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
The Vogues,
Skarface,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantytec,
Lindisfarne,
Dennis Brown,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bad Manners,
John Foxx,
Minutemen,
The Standells,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.