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 Ethiopia and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 The Blackbyrds to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator 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 harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Gories,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harry Pussy,
the Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Q and Not U,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hoover,
Kenny Larkin,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
Parry Music,
Reuben Wilson,
Crime,
David McCallum,
Public Image Ltd.,
The New Christs,
Bobby Sherman,
AZ,
Procol Harum,
The Smiths,
Yaz,
Dennis Brown,
OOIOO,
The Barracudas,
Janne Schatter,
This Heat,
Blossom Toes,
The American Breed,
Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Leaves,
Minnie Riperton,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bush Tetras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quando Quango,
Lindisfarne,
Desert Stars,
Sarah Menescal,
The Blackbyrds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Popol Vuh,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Mills,
X-Ray Spex,
Al Stewart,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hashim,
The Motions,
Marine Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Sound Behaviour,
Youth Brigade,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.