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 Bangladesh and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Swans to the rock 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe 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 guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Mary Jane Girls,
B.T. Express,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
Connie Case,
Danielle Patucci,
Zero Boys,
Pole,
Harry Pussy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Trojans,
The Move,
CMW,
a-ha,
D'Angelo,
Clear Light,
Fat Boys,
The Skatalites,
Charles Mingus,
the Sonics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Main Source,
Donny Hathaway,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Standells,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
Accadde A,
Ituana,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pierre Henry,
Hot Snakes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dual Sessions,
Stetsasonic,
Ultimate Spinach,
Qualms,
Franke,
The Birthday Party,
Metal Thangz,
Q and Not U,
Todd Terry,
The Leaves,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Gun Club,
Scientists,
The Gories,
The Human League,
Lyres,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Clarke,
AZ,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sun Ra,
Terry Callier,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.