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 Cyprus and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Order,
Little Man,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Intrusion,
MC5,
Erasure,
Ornette Coleman,
Cybotron,
Sun Ra,
New York Dolls,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Christie,
Hardrive,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Coltrane,
Ituana,
Barrington Levy,
the Association,
Tom Boy,
Livin' Joy,
Siglo XX,
The Smoke,
Mission of Burma,
Hasil Adkins,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
Isaac Hayes,
John Foxx,
X-Ray Spex,
Supertramp,
Max Romeo,
Sam Rivers,
the Germs,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Barracudas,
Scrapy,
AZ,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
The Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
The Invisible,
Bluetip,
Brass Construction,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Trojans,
Albert Ayler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gang of Four,
Warren Ellis,
Kayak,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.