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 Jamaica and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Moon,
the Sonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dawn Penn,
Alison Limerick,
James White and The Blacks,
Ronnie Foster,
In Retrospect,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Desert Stars,
Slick Rick,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mojo Men,
Depeche Mode,
David Bowie,
Duran Duran,
Sonic Youth,
Barrington Levy,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rapeman,
Eden Ahbez,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacques Brel,
Letta Mbulu,
Scratch Acid,
Roy Ayers,
Lucky Dragons,
The American Breed,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Kaleidoscope,
The Raincoats,
The Doors,
Tim Buckley,
Shoche,
Sandy B,
Spoonie Gee,
Blossom Toes,
Arthur Verocai,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Danielle Patucci,
The Seeds,
Michelle Simonal,
The Tremeloes,
Von Mondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Technova,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
T.S.O.L.,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.