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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Yusef Lateef to the disco 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and an oboe 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Soft Machine,
Von Mondo,
Warren Ellis,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
DJ Sneak,
Skaos,
Boz Scaggs,
The Martian,
The Victims,
Livin' Joy,
Glenn Branca,
David McCallum,
Stiv Bators,
Khruangbin,
Fad Gadget,
Agent Orange,
Vladislav Delay,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Grauzone,
Rufus Thomas,
Ice-T,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ituana,
Groovy Waters,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
Wire,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Saints,
John Lydon,
the Soft Cell,
Lakeside,
Bush Tetras,
Brand Nubian,
The Mummies,
Sexual Harrassment,
China Crisis,
The Slackers,
The Litter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joe Finger,
Los Fastidios,
Accadde A,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Banda Bassotti,
Swell Maps,
ABBA,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pere Ubu,
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Echospace,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.