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 Austria and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David Axelrod to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Fad Gadget,
Piero Umiliani,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Y Pants,
The J.B.'s,
Newcleus,
Popol Vuh,
Q65,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Martian,
Chrome,
Jacob Miller,
New Age Steppers,
Don Cherry,
Second Layer,
Ronnie Foster,
Ken Boothe,
In Retrospect,
Matthew Bourne,
Cal Tjader,
John Cale,
Excepter,
Easy Going,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
DNA,
John Lydon,
Q and Not U,
Malaria!,
Harmonia,
Section 25,
Joy Division,
The Music Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
OOIOO,
Susan Cadogan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Sherman,
Man Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fluxion,
Absolute Body Control,
Model 500,
Black Sheep,
Supertramp,
The Neon Judgement,
Unrelated Segments,
Brick,
Young Marble Giants,
Vainqueur,
Mr. Review,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Connie Case,
Blossom Toes,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.