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 Belgium and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gladiators to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar 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 rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radiohead,
Second Layer,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Banda Bassotti,
Yellowson,
Soft Cell,
Brick,
The Velvet Underground,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
Japan,
Morten Harket,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Skaos,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Albert Ayler,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
The Victims,
Severed Heads,
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Unwound,
Toni Rubio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Aswad,
John Holt,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
The Fuzztones,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Chrome,
U.S. Maple,
Excepter,
Oblivians,
The Doors,
Au Pairs,
Bobby Byrd,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.