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 Djibouti and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Electric Prunes to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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,
Youth Brigade,
Fear,
Brick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Severed Heads,
Bang On A Can,
Goldenarms,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Moon,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
The Kinks,
The Doors,
Connie Case,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Hill,
Carl Craig,
The Cramps,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Görl,
The Grass Roots,
Stetsasonic,
The Neon Judgement,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dirtbombs,
Pussy Galore,
Yazoo,
Rapeman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gabor Szabo,
John Lydon,
Deadbeat,
The Monks,
The Misunderstood,
Neil Young,
Au Pairs,
The Blackbyrds,
Skriet,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Wings,
Eve St. Jones,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Simply Red,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
Eden Ahbez,
Jimmy McGriff,
Kerri Chandler,
The Velvet Underground,
L. Decosne,
Grey Daturas,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fugs,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.