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 Guinea-Bissau and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 ABBA to the funk 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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes 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 güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Connie Case,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Hill,
Intrusion,
Prince Buster,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry's Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Gap Band,
The Skatalites,
Ornette Coleman,
The Smiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Can,
Robert Hood,
Anakelly,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Starr,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Angels of Light,
Aural Exciters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Los Fastidios,
Chrome,
Animal Collective,
Swell Maps,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Slits,
Q65,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eddi Front,
Flipper,
Fugazi,
Black Flag,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Davy DMX,
Peter and Kerry,
The Alarm Clocks,
Khruangbin,
MC5,
The Names,
Pere Ubu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Young Rascals,
Average White Band,
Eric Dolphy,
World's Most,
K-Klass,
Pierre Henry,
Vladislav Delay,
Slick Rick,
Das Ding,
Eurythmics,
Albert Ayler,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.