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 Honduras and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nick Fraelich to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a marimba 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 rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Marc Almond,
Crooked Eye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Techniques,
Little Man,
Kerrie Biddell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Soulsonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints,
David Axelrod,
The Golliwogs,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Slackers,
The Evens,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
the Human League,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moody Blues,
Kas Product,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
B.T. Express,
T. Rex,
The Victims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nik Kershaw,
Lower 48,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Todd Rundgren,
Josef K,
Fugazi,
Mr. Review,
Rosa Yemen,
Sight & Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Siglo XX,
World's Most,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
New York Dolls,
Sonny Sharrock,
Scientists,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Television,
The Fortunes,
The Motions,
The Knickerbockers,
The Offenders,
The Tremeloes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Carl Craig,
Matthew Bourne,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
Popol Vuh,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.