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 Ghana and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare 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 Quadrant to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bauhaus,
The United States of America,
Malaria!,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Sneak,
Nick Fraelich,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
Kenny Larkin,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Danielle Patucci,
Aloha Tigers,
Graham Central Station,
Piero Umiliani,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kaleidoscope,
Index,
James White and The Blacks,
The J.B.'s,
UT,
The Electric Prunes,
Metal Thangz,
Brass Construction,
The American Breed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Terrestrial Tones,
Royal Trux,
Das Ding,
Sällskapet,
The Associates,
H. Thieme,
Camberwell Now,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
The Leaves,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Crispy Ambulance,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Blackbyrds,
MDC,
Albert Ayler,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Alton Ellis,
Bob Dylan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Swell Maps,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hoover,
Flipper,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mission of Burma,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Sheep,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.