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 Kiribati and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Magazine to the punk 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator 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 an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
The Trojans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
a-ha,
The Pretty Things,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Smog,
Infiniti,
June of 44,
Barbara Tucker,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Q65,
The United States of America,
Minny Pops,
Oneida,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Association,
Sarah Menescal,
Royal Trux,
Magma,
Aswad,
Procol Harum,
Groovy Waters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Bootsy Collins,
Lungfish,
Pharoah Sanders,
OOIOO,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lakeside,
Audionom,
The Names,
Peter & Gordon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Delta 5,
Eric Dolphy,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rod Modell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxy Music,
Arab on Radar,
Sparks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roger Hodgson,
Negative Approach,
Letta Mbulu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hot Snakes,
Danielle Patucci,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
The Remains,
Prince Buster,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.