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 Turkmenistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gregory Isaacs to the dance 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 David Bowie. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord 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?
Mantronix,
The Gap Band,
Thompson Twins,
D'Angelo,
Mark Hollis,
David Bowie,
AZ,
The Slits,
Los Fastidios,
Lungfish,
Easy Going,
Sight & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Tom Boy,
Main Source,
Glenn Branca,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül II,
Blake Baxter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Unwound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marmalade,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Görl,
Blancmange,
Faraquet,
Marvin Gaye,
X-Ray Spex,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sällskapet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Oblivians,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jacques Brel,
Deakin,
Wolf Eyes,
Cameo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Country Teasers,
Index,
John Foxx,
Bad Manners,
The Fire Engines,
Theoretical Girls,
The Techniques,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter & Gordon,
Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.