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 Guinea-Bissau and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Derrick May to the jazz 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
June Days,
Young Marble Giants,
Motorama,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
FM Einheit,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fugazi,
The Blackbyrds,
The Doors,
Derrick May,
X-Ray Spex,
Reuben Wilson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Urselle,
Curtis Mayfield,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
David Axelrod,
The Toasters,
Little Man,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Saccharine Trust,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Robert Hood,
Terry Callier,
Mark Hollis,
LL Cool J,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bad Manners,
Outsiders,
The Velvet Underground,
Wally Richardson,
Joy Division,
Panda Bear,
Fatback Band,
Black Flag,
Malaria!,
Neu!,
The Litter,
Babytalk,
Marine Girls,
Colin Newman,
Glenn Branca,
The Invisible,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
Shoche,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nico,
The Residents,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Normal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.