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 Madagascar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Wasted Youth to the techno 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
the Bar-Kays,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Thompson Twins,
Byron Stingily,
Sam Rivers,
AZ,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jawbox,
Ken Boothe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gregory Isaacs,
World's Most,
Marvin Gaye,
Lower 48,
Soul Sonic Force,
ABBA,
Pharoah Sanders,
Grauzone,
Ponytail,
The Slackers,
Mo-Dettes,
Nik Kershaw,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Machine,
JFA,
Dawn Penn,
Mandrill,
The Index,
Hashim,
Model 500,
Organ,
The Fugs,
Black Pus,
Eden Ahbez,
L. Decosne,
Agitation Free,
Stetsasonic,
Bob Dylan,
Alton Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wasted Youth,
Boredoms,
Kurtis Blow,
The Litter,
Donald Byrd,
Sun City Girls,
John Foxx,
The Trojans,
Matthew Halsall,
Supertramp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.