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 Indonesia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soulsonic Force to the rap 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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin 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 clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thee Headcoats,
UT,
Absolute Body Control,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sonics,
Faraquet,
the Human League,
Frankie Knuckles,
Desert Stars,
Slick Rick,
Make Up,
David Axelrod,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ultra Naté,
Drexciya,
Supertramp,
Animal Collective,
The Count Five,
Lalann,
Japan,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
Carl Craig,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slits,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Massinfluence,
Model 500,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cramps,
Joy Division,
B.T. Express,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Barry Ungar,
Fluxion,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Victims,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joey Negro,
Bauhaus,
Quantec,
Los Fastidios,
ABC,
Brand Nubian,
Urselle,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.