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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Mummies to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deepchord,
Aswad,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Scrapy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rosa Yemen,
Donny Hathaway,
The Durutti Column,
Y Pants,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Althea and Donna,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-Ray Spex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mo-Dettes,
Delta 5,
Bad Manners,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Carl Craig,
Urselle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Buzzcocks,
The New Christs,
Faraquet,
Mr. Review,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pierre Henry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Porter Ricks,
The Sonics,
The Selecter,
Wings,
Wolf Eyes,
R.M.O.,
Suicide,
Mark Hollis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
ABC,
Guru Guru,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eli Mardock,
Toni Rubio,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Masters at Work,
Newcleus,
Minutemen,
The Move,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Red Krayola,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.