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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Slits to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a CMW record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Albert Ayler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pylon,
Sugar Minott,
Hot Snakes,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Con Funk Shun,
Brothers Johnson,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
Andrew Hill,
New York Dolls,
Cluster,
Wire,
Icehouse,
Minor Threat,
Stereo Dub,
Slick Rick,
Nik Kershaw,
Kurtis Blow,
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
Ossler,
World's Most,
Franke,
Crash Course in Science,
Fat Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Half Japanese,
Nils Olav,
The Walker Brothers,
Warren Ellis,
Lakeside,
Jimmy McGriff,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kerrie Biddell,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Leaves,
Crooked Eye,
Schoolly D,
the Sonics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pussy Galore,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Buzzcocks,
Dual Sessions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sixth Finger,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deakin,
48th St. Collective,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wasted Youth,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bootsy Collins,
Colin Newman,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.