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 Mexico and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Hood,
The Vogues,
One Last Wish,
The Residents,
Minnie Riperton,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
10cc,
Tom Boy,
Franke,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Marmalade,
Funky Four + One,
Eden Ahbez,
OOIOO,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Selecter,
Popol Vuh,
Rekid,
The Sound,
Bob Dylan,
Rufus Thomas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
Swell Maps,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aswad,
Gong,
Symarip,
Kool Moe Dee,
Darondo,
The Fortunes,
Max Romeo,
Prince Buster,
Laurel Aitken,
Ken Boothe,
Q65,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
Neil Young,
Bronski Beat,
Todd Terry,
The Offenders,
The Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jandek,
Procol Harum,
Trumans Water,
Judy Mowatt,
Marine Girls,
Urselle,
Chrome,
Tears for Fears,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sixth Finger,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.