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 Sweden and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Cale to the electroclash 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Swell Maps,
Stiv Bators,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
L. Decosne,
Barry Ungar,
Magazine,
Lower 48,
Cameo,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobbi Humphrey,
DNA,
Graham Central Station,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Techniques,
Robert Görl,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
Drexciya,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fall,
DJ Sneak,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rapeman,
Inner City,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brothers Johnson,
Nirvana,
Fluxion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Angry Samoans,
Derrick Morgan,
Simply Red,
Marshall Jefferson,
Steve Hackett,
Cluster,
Altered Images,
The Dead C,
Joe Finger,
Nas,
Young Marble Giants,
Siglo XX,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Knickerbockers,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Scrapy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
Skarface,
Eli Mardock,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Monolake,
Johnny Osbourne,
The American Breed,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.