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 Poland and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Seoul.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Todd Rundgren to the rap 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Stiv Bators,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wings,
The Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
Hasil Adkins,
John Foxx,
KRS-One,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Hill,
Newcleus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Raincoats,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gories,
Don Cherry,
Nas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kayak,
Swell Maps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Malaria!,
Interpol,
Joey Negro,
The Barracudas,
The Young Rascals,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Johnny Clarke,
Eve St. Jones,
Silicon Teens,
Jandek,
The Invisible,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Sneak,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Litter,
Sällskapet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Nik Kershaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Cal Tjader,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Audionom,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mark Hollis,
Sister Nancy,
A Certain Ratio,
Sandy B,
AZ,
Pole,
Byron Stingily,
Excepter,
Japan,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.