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 Mauritius and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Spoonie Gee to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
The Raincoats,
Babytalk,
Ludus,
Kaleidoscope,
Blancmange,
Nico,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radio Birdman,
The Fuzztones,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Faust,
Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
Rekid,
Davy DMX,
Roxy Music,
Mad Mike,
Jandek,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Bourne,
Essential Logic,
Peter and Kerry,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Sonics,
Television Personalities,
E-Dancer,
Y Pants,
Boogie Down Productions,
Loose Ends,
Eric Dolphy,
D'Angelo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Monks,
Sex Pistols,
The Walker Brothers,
John Holt,
Wolf Eyes,
Hardrive,
Smog,
Hashim,
Young Marble Giants,
The Red Krayola,
Monolake,
Graham Central Station,
Yellowson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Blake Baxter,
The Beau Brummels,
This Heat,
Thompson Twins,
Buzzcocks,
Grauzone,
Freddie Wadling,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Matthew Halsall,
The Human League,
The Grass Roots,
The Moody Blues,
T. Rex,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.