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 Azerbaijan and from Manchester.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kaleidoscope to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Smog,
Kaleidoscope,
X-101,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
Gang Starr,
Eurythmics,
the Germs,
Ultravox,
Fela Kuti,
Scan 7,
Gang Gang Dance,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Subhumans,
K-Klass,
Radiohead,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deepchord,
The Human League,
Yazoo,
Prince Buster,
Glambeats Corp.,
Spandau Ballet,
Amon Düül II,
Soulsonic Force,
Dark Day,
Bad Manners,
Skaos,
The Monochrome Set,
Unwound,
The Blackbyrds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Associates,
Rod Modell,
Michelle Simonal,
The Modern Lovers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wire,
Niagra,
Kenny Larkin,
Crash Course in Science,
The Zeros,
Bobby Byrd,
Urselle,
Brand Nubian,
Ultimate Spinach,
Erasure,
These Immortal Souls,
EPMD,
Bluetip,
Cluster,
Roxy Music,
The Dead C,
Mantronix,
Arcadia,
Chrome,
Black Bananas,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.