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 Norway and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet 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 sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stetsasonic,
Easy Going,
Traffic Nightmare,
Von Mondo,
Anthony Braxton,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Saints,
Donald Byrd,
Brass Construction,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alice Coltrane,
The Star Department,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Second Layer,
Joey Negro,
Babytalk,
Little Man,
Rakim,
Tubeway Army,
Aswad,
Albert Ayler,
Kerri Chandler,
Minor Threat,
Pet Shop Boys,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
The Selecter,
Crispian St. Peters,
Niagra,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arab on Radar,
Sonny Sharrock,
Suburban Knight,
Janne Schatter,
Sam Rivers,
Nirvana,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Chris & Cosey,
Erasure,
Fatback Band,
The Moleskins,
Trumans Water,
Cheater Slicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Saccharine Trust,
Sight & Sound,
Ten City,
The Gories,
FM Einheit,
Dawn Penn,
Man Eating Sloth,
Accadde A,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Leaves,
The Count Five,
The Cowsills,
Morten Harket,
Anakelly,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.