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 East Timor and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nirvana to the dance 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Cecil Taylor,
Deadbeat,
Brand Nubian,
the Bar-Kays,
The Searchers,
Bobby Sherman,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arthur Verocai,
Cameo,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
Mandrill,
Whodini,
The Dirtbombs,
Quantec,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shuggie Otis,
Sparks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
The Motions,
Inner City,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Monolake,
Bob Dylan,
Fad Gadget,
Interpol,
Desert Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cramps,
10cc,
Japan,
Harmonia,
Guru Guru,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Pop Group,
Eden Ahbez,
The Litter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tres Demented,
Vainqueur,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Can,
Roxy Music,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül,
Infiniti,
Au Pairs,
Henry Cow,
The Black Dice,
Cymande,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.