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 Lebanon and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
Surgeon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Bar-Kays,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sugar Minott,
Q65,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DJ Sneak,
Stetsasonic,
Sister Nancy,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Erasure,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quadrant,
Peter & Gordon,
Andrew Hill,
Sonic Youth,
Pylon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Henry Cow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Faraquet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Excepter,
X-102,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Spoonie Gee,
Theoretical Girls,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Circle Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Neon Judgement,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ohio Players,
The Moleskins,
The Raincoats,
Gang Green,
Whodini,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sex Pistols,
Nick Fraelich,
Dorothy Ashby,
H. Thieme,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Flesh Eaters,
D'Angelo,
Ronnie Foster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.