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 Chile and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 The Neon Judgement to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Walker Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Oneida,
Hasil Adkins,
Derrick May,
Jawbox,
Fear,
Moss Icon,
Eddi Front,
Bill Near,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Starr,
Hashim,
Maurizio,
China Crisis,
Marine Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Cell,
The Modern Lovers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Unrelated Segments,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gichy Dan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick Morgan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter & Gordon,
Cluster,
Pylon,
June of 44,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mad Mike,
Make Up,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jandek,
Alison Limerick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Steve Hackett,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker,
Crash Course in Science,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rites of Spring,
The United States of America,
Sun Ra,
Fad Gadget,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marshall Jefferson,
48th St. Collective,
X-101,
Big Daddy Kane,
Supertramp,
Drexciya,
Black Bananas,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultra Naté,
Skarface,
The Cowsills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.