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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Dawn Penn to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a mellotron 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The Stooges,
Main Source,
Sun City Girls,
Crime,
Lindisfarne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
Tubeway Army,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
10cc,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Real Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Symarip,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
Adolescents,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Model 500,
Angry Samoans,
Fluxion,
The Gories,
Fugazi,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Radiopuhelimet,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Robert Wyatt,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Chris & Cosey,
Carl Craig,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fatback Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sugar Minott,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bad Manners,
Nick Fraelich,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
CMW,
Skarface,
Saccharine Trust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Infiniti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ice-T,
The Busters,
DJ Sneak,
Colin Newman,
Glenn Branca,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.