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 Burkina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba 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 marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Alton Ellis,
The Fugs,
Soft Machine,
Black Flag,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blues Magoos,
Camberwell Now,
Brass Construction,
Aloha Tigers,
The Tremeloes,
Radiohead,
Stockholm Monsters,
Traffic Nightmare,
Funkadelic,
Theoretical Girls,
Mr. Review,
Laurel Aitken,
Warsaw,
Silicon Teens,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Organ,
Peter and Kerry,
Eurythmics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ice-T,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tom Boy,
Essential Logic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Don Cherry,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
the Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
The Fall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Barry Ungar,
Max Romeo,
The Moleskins,
Symarip,
Arab on Radar,
Half Japanese,
The Misunderstood,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Green,
The Gap Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Audionom,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mummies,
Quadrant,
Lower 48,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.