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 Jamaica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Fugs to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Toni Rubio,
the Bar-Kays,
Circle Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Josef K,
The Selecter,
Pere Ubu,
Cecil Taylor,
Reagan Youth,
Suicide,
Excepter,
David Bowie,
Eve St. Jones,
Colin Newman,
Eden Ahbez,
The Golliwogs,
Terry Callier,
Man Parrish,
48th St. Collective,
Tubeway Army,
Organ,
Kenny Larkin,
Harmonia,
X-102,
Model 500,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scan 7,
Skarface,
Pagans,
Yaz,
The Durutti Column,
Subhumans,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed,
Eurythmics,
The Victims,
Sun Ra,
Sam Rivers,
Ronnie Foster,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
Lungfish,
Mission of Burma,
Japan,
Depeche Mode,
In Retrospect,
Derrick Morgan,
Symarip,
Joey Negro,
David Axelrod,
Peter & Gordon,
The Searchers,
Barbara Tucker,
Crash Course in Science,
Jacob Miller,
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
Sparks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Residents,
DJ Sneak,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.