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 Dominica and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Todd Terry to the rap 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator 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 güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Niagra,
Masters at Work,
Crispian St. Peters,
The New Christs,
Half Japanese,
Symarip,
The Mummies,
Yaz,
Davy DMX,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Guru Guru,
Little Man,
Robert Görl,
Hasil Adkins,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Vladislav Delay,
Soft Cell,
Wings,
The Move,
The Motions,
Chris Corsano,
Bad Manners,
Dave Gahan,
Fugazi,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Monochrome Set,
Reuben Wilson,
Cal Tjader,
Freddie Wadling,
The Barracudas,
Grauzone,
Peter & Gordon,
Echospace,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Chrome,
Eli Mardock,
Sixth Finger,
X-102,
The Vogues,
Ken Boothe,
Dawn Penn,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Godley & Creme,
The Doobie Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
Ultra Naté,
Roxy Music,
Terry Callier,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sparks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
kango's stein massive,
Juan Atkins,
Man Parrish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Byron Stingily,
Andrew Hill,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.