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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Byron Stingily to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 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 James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Organ,
MDC,
Q and Not U,
Albert Ayler,
John Holt,
Pussy Galore,
Index,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blossom Toes,
The Velvet Underground,
The Seeds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jandek,
Saccharine Trust,
Alphaville,
Aaron Thompson,
Sun City Girls,
Tomorrow,
The Remains,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sparks,
The Monks,
Duran Duran,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
UT,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Girls At Our Best!,
Morten Harket,
Kaleidoscope,
Animal Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Althea and Donna,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scan 7,
Lalann,
This Heat,
Echospace,
Monks,
Moebius,
Gang of Four,
Rites of Spring,
the Swans,
Suicide,
The New Christs,
Cameo,
Ten City,
PIL,
Ronan,
Donald Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ralphi Rosario,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.