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 Botswana and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Swell Maps to the grunge 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harpers Bizarre 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 808 and a synthesizer 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
Peter and Kerry,
The Monks,
Lightning Bolt,
Ludus,
The Martian,
Bizarre Inc.,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jawbox,
Inner City,
Ituana,
Newcleus,
Half Japanese,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
H. Thieme,
Talk Talk,
The Gun Club,
Metal Thangz,
Country Teasers,
Vainqueur,
Cheater Slicks,
Stiv Bators,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Adolescents,
June of 44,
Scion,
Can,
Curtis Mayfield,
E-Dancer,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Derrick Morgan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Moby Grape,
Kool Moe Dee,
Underground Resistance,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Von Mondo,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
The Neon Judgement,
Intrusion,
The Evens,
Boredoms,
Rufus Thomas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drive Like Jehu,
One Last Wish,
Wolf Eyes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Agitation Free,
Delon & Dalcan,
L. Decosne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Harmonia,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.