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 Bulgaria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Darondo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Little Man,
Theoretical Girls,
Crime,
Crash Course in Science,
Crooked Eye,
Angry Samoans,
Marvin Gaye,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Adolescents,
Funky Four + One,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Bananas,
Reagan Youth,
John Coltrane,
The Angels of Light,
Flipper,
CMW,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
F. McDonald,
Curtis Mayfield,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barclay James Harvest,
OOIOO,
The Human League,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Sherman,
Fugazi,
The Gladiators,
Arab on Radar,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gang Starr,
a-ha,
The Fall,
kango's stein massive,
Slick Rick,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
Junior Murvin,
48th St. Collective,
The Fortunes,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Gang Dance,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scan 7,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masters at Work,
Tears for Fears,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.