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 Belgium and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 UT to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
Stetsasonic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yellowson,
The Detroit Cobras,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ituana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marine Girls,
Reagan Youth,
The Wake,
Joe Smooth,
Nick Fraelich,
Amazonics,
Skarface,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Davy DMX,
The Divine Comedy,
Morten Harket,
Wasted Youth,
The Litter,
Organ,
the Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Cramps,
Michelle Simonal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Nils Olav,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Trojans,
Dual Sessions,
Procol Harum,
Crispy Ambulance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
X-101,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
Donald Byrd,
Pere Ubu,
Fear,
MC5,
The Blues Magoos,
Lalann,
Ronnie Foster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Velvet Underground,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eddi Front,
Sex Pistols,
Television Personalities,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crooked Eye,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.