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 Brazil and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dead Boys to the jazz 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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,
cv313,
Angry Samoans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Scan 7,
The Names,
H. Thieme,
The Smiths,
Deadbeat,
The Birthday Party,
Scratch Acid,
Fear,
Thompson Twins,
Inner City,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bob Dylan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Susan Cadogan,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Gap Band,
Drexciya,
This Heat,
Alison Limerick,
Anthony Braxton,
Motorama,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Intrusion,
Brand Nubian,
Second Layer,
Blake Baxter,
New Order,
Davy DMX,
Unwound,
Roy Ayers,
X-102,
JFA,
Malaria!,
Joey Negro,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed,
Youth Brigade,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
Sun Ra,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rosa Yemen,
Half Japanese,
Suburban Knight,
Joe Smooth,
Rekid,
Aural Exciters,
The Gories,
Mantronix,
Television Personalities,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nirvana,
The Slits,
Monolake,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.