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 Denmark and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Los Fastidios to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Lydon,
Laurel Aitken,
Aaron Thompson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Colin Newman,
Blake Baxter,
Pagans,
Eli Mardock,
Lungfish,
Marmalade,
Funkadelic,
Youth Brigade,
Ronnie Foster,
Bang On A Can,
Brass Construction,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Motorama,
Gang Starr,
Boredoms,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tim Buckley,
U.S. Maple,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
The Five Americans,
Roger Hodgson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Todd Rundgren,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Erasure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
L. Decosne,
ABC,
Wire,
the Association,
Leonard Cohen,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aswad,
Pere Ubu,
Soul II Soul,
Kenny Larkin,
Alphaville,
Skarface,
Sarah Menescal,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jawbox,
Harmonia,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mark Hollis,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.