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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Houston.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the grime 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Negative Approach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marc Almond,
Wire,
Minor Threat,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tubeway Army,
The Trojans,
Bauhaus,
The Dirtbombs,
The Smiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash,
Maleditus Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Copeland,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter and Kerry,
Radio Birdman,
Mission of Burma,
The Doors,
Albert Ayler,
Bob Dylan,
Stiv Bators,
Cluster,
Morten Harket,
Organ,
Sparks,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magazine,
James White and The Blacks,
Metal Thangz,
The Dead C,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pussy Galore,
Malaria!,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The New Christs,
Tomorrow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Kaleidoscope,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rapeman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Aloha Tigers,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.