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 Belize and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a mellotron 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
The Fuzztones,
Lungfish,
Archie Shepp,
Idris Muhammad,
Hardrive,
The Names,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultra Naté,
Arab on Radar,
The Young Rascals,
The Techniques,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bluetip,
Reagan Youth,
Harpers Bizarre,
Chris Corsano,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
The Fortunes,
the Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Grauzone,
Reuben Wilson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Unwound,
Hasil Adkins,
Smog,
Little Man,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Copeland,
The Doobie Brothers,
PIL,
Infiniti,
Mark Hollis,
Ultravox,
Moss Icon,
Model 500,
Zapp,
Dual Sessions,
Matthew Bourne,
Ten City,
Soulsonic Force,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
Agitation Free,
Ponytail,
Donny Hathaway,
Graham Central Station,
Sugar Minott,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Bananas,
T.S.O.L.,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.