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 Macedonia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Lucky Dragons to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Monks,
Angry Samoans,
The Buckinghams,
Swell Maps,
Ronan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sixth Finger,
OOIOO,
Ten City,
The Blues Magoos,
Todd Terry,
Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
Kerri Chandler,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Dolphy,
Gichy Dan,
Aaron Thompson,
Joy Division,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
John Lydon,
Marvin Gaye,
Quando Quango,
The Velvet Underground,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
The Raincoats,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rufus Thomas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Hashim,
The Standells,
Deadbeat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nico,
Model 500,
Kurtis Blow,
John Coltrane,
Ponytail,
The Real Kids,
Barry Ungar,
E-Dancer,
Hot Snakes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Schoolly D,
The Move,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Style,
Minnie Riperton,
One Last Wish,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.