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 Russia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 New York Dolls to the rap 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Deepchord,
New York Dolls,
The Smoke,
Accadde A,
Lungfish,
Chris & Cosey,
The Doors,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ten City,
Bill Near,
Tears for Fears,
Ultra Naté,
Ken Boothe,
Laurel Aitken,
Wasted Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Carl Craig,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
A Certain Ratio,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Red Krayola,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DNA,
Echospace,
Outsiders,
OOIOO,
Gil Scott Heron,
Surgeon,
Soft Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
The Index,
Supertramp,
The Gories,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Susan Cadogan,
June Days,
Crash Course in Science,
Nirvana,
Yazoo,
Sonic Youth,
The Golliwogs,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mantronix,
Porter Ricks,
The Slackers,
Ossler,
Wings,
The Cure,
Robert Hood,
Skarface,
Rekid,
R.M.O.,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.