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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro 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 Cal Tjader to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ 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 chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
The Durutti Column,
The Angels of Light,
Talk Talk,
Amazonics,
Donny Hathaway,
John Holt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fat Boys,
Idris Muhammad,
The Neon Judgement,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terry Callier,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Mo-Dettes,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Spandau Ballet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
Dennis Brown,
The Gories,
James Chance & The Contortions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
PIL,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Circle Jerks,
Rites of Spring,
Boogie Down Productions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yusef Lateef,
Unwound,
The Index,
Cecil Taylor,
U.S. Maple,
Henry Cow,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Barrington Levy,
The Blues Magoos,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Residents,
Nirvana,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jawbox,
Livin' Joy,
Heaven 17,
Lyres,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scion,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.