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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 MC5 to the jazz 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba 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 rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
Bauhaus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cluster,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Hasil Adkins,
John Holt,
Lungfish,
K-Klass,
Ornette Coleman,
The Wake,
Sun Ra,
Franke,
Stereo Dub,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Funky Four + One,
The Leaves,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Golliwogs,
Q and Not U,
AZ,
the Normal,
Porter Ricks,
X-Ray Spex,
ABBA,
Rufus Thomas,
Roxy Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Prunes,
Lower 48,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
Neu!,
The Red Krayola,
Black Pus,
Kas Product,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
the Sonics,
Unwound,
Skarface,
Ultra Naté,
Youth Brigade,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wally Richardson,
MDC,
John Coltrane,
The Sonics,
DJ Style,
Aaron Thompson,
Ten City,
Kaleidoscope,
Technova,
Deakin,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.