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 Botswana and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the snare 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 Cymande to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare 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 organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Cal Tjader,
Mo-Dettes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Todd Rundgren,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Unwound,
The Trojans,
Minnie Riperton,
The Black Dice,
Banda Bassotti,
Mandrill,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Mr. Review,
DJ Sneak,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Gong,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Association,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Make Up,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gabor Szabo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Animal Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
Michelle Simonal,
Alice Coltrane,
The United States of America,
Rod Modell,
Reagan Youth,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Prince Buster,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Can,
The Count Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Au Pairs,
Pole,
Intrusion,
The Saints,
Depeche Mode,
Outsiders,
Lou Christie,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Velvet Underground,
Tim Buckley,
Soul II Soul,
John Holt,
Deadbeat,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.