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 Iraq and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Michael McDonald 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
World's Most,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Sonics,
Minutemen,
Charles Mingus,
The Barracudas,
Cecil Taylor,
One Last Wish,
Lungfish,
Funky Four + One,
Delta 5,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Agitation Free,
Clear Light,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tres Demented,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
Von Mondo,
Letta Mbulu,
Sound Behaviour,
X-102,
Silicon Teens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
Groovy Waters,
Lightning Bolt,
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Steve Hackett,
John Holt,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
The Names,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
Livin' Joy,
Brand Nubian,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
Porter Ricks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Index,
Kenny Larkin,
Dual Sessions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
L. Decosne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Iggy Pop,
Accadde A,
Girls At Our Best!,
Barrington Levy,
The Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Junior Murvin,
Babytalk,
Cameo,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
DJ Sneak,
Alison Limerick,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.