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 Nigeria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Swans to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bob Dylan,
Intrusion,
The Slackers,
the Swans,
Wally Richardson,
Althea and Donna,
Gabor Szabo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Spandau Ballet,
Lyres,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
Piero Umiliani,
This Heat,
Fear,
Wire,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Shoche,
Skriet,
Moby Grape,
Soft Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
cv313,
Scratch Acid,
Jerry's Kids,
Kool Moe Dee,
B.T. Express,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Moon,
Television,
Underground Resistance,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Raincoats,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Organ,
The Mummies,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crooked Eye,
Thee Headcoats,
Babytalk,
Jeff Mills,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sugar Minott,
Toni Rubio,
Jacob Miller,
Q65,
MDC,
The Star Department,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tommy Roe,
Urselle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Hoover,
Audionom,
Andrew Hill,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.