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 Liberia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba 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 snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Visage,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté,
Quando Quango,
Royal Trux,
Fugazi,
Camouflage,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blackbyrds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Audionom,
Pylon,
Camberwell Now,
Angry Samoans,
Ponytail,
The Modern Lovers,
Sun City Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Simply Red,
48th St. Collective,
Hot Snakes,
KRS-One,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Motions,
The Searchers,
The New Christs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mr. Review,
The Black Dice,
Bluetip,
The Residents,
Ornette Coleman,
Roy Ayers,
John Lydon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sam Rivers,
Banda Bassotti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Mojo Men,
Peter & Gordon,
Sun Ra,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ten City,
Connie Case,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
Maurizio,
La Düsseldorf,
Scion,
Sex Pistols,
Barbara Tucker,
Wings,
Infiniti,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.