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 Equatorial Guinea and from Milan.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 oboe 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 Los Fastidios to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ohio Players record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Johnny Clarke,
Sister Nancy,
Loose Ends,
The Detroit Cobras,
Isaac Hayes,
Man Parrish,
Fluxion,
Slave,
John Holt,
The United States of America,
The Searchers,
Scratch Acid,
Patti Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
Thee Headcoats,
Das Ding,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Royal Trux,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell,
Derrick May,
Gichy Dan,
The Black Dice,
Eric B and Rakim,
Josef K,
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flipper,
World's Most,
The Gun Club,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fat Boys,
the Normal,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Junior Murvin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lower 48,
The Skatalites,
Barbara Tucker,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mo-Dettes,
kango's stein massive,
Connie Case,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ronan,
Metal Thangz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Juan Atkins,
Pantaleimon,
John Coltrane,
June Days,
Franke,
The Associates,
Stockholm Monsters,
Make Up,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.