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 Fiji and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grime 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s 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 Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Schoolly D,
Model 500,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
Slave,
Lakeside,
Pantaleimon,
a-ha,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Warren Ellis,
Rufus Thomas,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bad Manners,
Bill Near,
Bob Dylan,
Shoche,
Popol Vuh,
Skaos,
Kaleidoscope,
The Walker Brothers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glenn Branca,
The Modern Lovers,
Roger Hodgson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blancmange,
Crash Course in Science,
Jawbox,
Sugar Minott,
Oblivians,
Ken Boothe,
Barrington Levy,
Magma,
EPMD,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Spoonie Gee,
Cal Tjader,
Depeche Mode,
Mo-Dettes,
The Smoke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Foxx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Barry Ungar,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Residents,
Bobby Byrd,
Simply Red,
DJ Sneak,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
James White and The Blacks,
Johnny Clarke,
Scratch Acid,
The Toasters,
Stetsasonic,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.