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 Rwanda and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Robert Hood to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron 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 arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Pere Ubu,
FM Einheit,
Bang On A Can,
Qualms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harry Pussy,
Chrome,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jacques Brel,
Easy Going,
Matthew Bourne,
The Beau Brummels,
Guru Guru,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jandek,
Patti Smith,
The Fall,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
Television,
Tres Demented,
Delon & Dalcan,
Oblivians,
Thee Headcoats,
Lungfish,
Eddi Front,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joe Smooth,
Drexciya,
The Skatalites,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
KRS-One,
Japan,
The Real Kids,
E-Dancer,
The Misunderstood,
Dual Sessions,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül II,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
Excepter,
Joe Finger,
Andrew Hill,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
10cc,
UT,
Derrick Morgan,
John Lydon,
The Selecter,
Goldenarms,
Gabor Szabo,
Warsaw,
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.