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 Sierra Leone and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Jacob Miller to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 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 a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Brass Construction,
Pere Ubu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
KRS-One,
Alice Coltrane,
Bluetip,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Henry Cow,
Joyce Sims,
Aloha Tigers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swell Maps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerri Chandler,
Y Pants,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Television Personalities,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pole,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Flag,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Skarface,
Unrelated Segments,
Faust,
Nils Olav,
The Flesh Eaters,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
Leonard Cohen,
Barbara Tucker,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flipper,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama,
Shoche,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Green,
X-101,
Patti Smith,
Thompson Twins,
Reagan Youth,
Cymande,
Sun Ra,
Los Fastidios,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
ABC,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Martian,
Fela Kuti,
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.