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 Barbados and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 CMW to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare 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 organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brand Nubian,
Prince Buster,
Pole,
Sixth Finger,
T.S.O.L.,
Agent Orange,
The Index,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Q65,
Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
Lalo Schifrin,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lightning Bolt,
Kenny Larkin,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Popol Vuh,
Reuben Wilson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anthony Braxton,
Circle Jerks,
Andrew Hill,
Marc Almond,
The Velvet Underground,
John Cale,
Jerry's Kids,
Khruangbin,
The Leaves,
Jeff Lynne,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Parry Music,
Con Funk Shun,
Harry Pussy,
Massinfluence,
Davy DMX,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Easy Going,
A Flock of Seagulls,
FM Einheit,
Television,
Jandek,
Blancmange,
Mr. Review,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rhythm & Sound,
T. Rex,
The Saints,
Marvin Gaye,
Hoover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.