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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 China Crisis to the disco 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Livin' Joy,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Tremeloes,
The Evens,
Juan Atkins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blues Magoos,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shoche,
Nation of Ulysses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Josef K,
Ossler,
The Fall,
The Toasters,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
Zapp,
The Sound,
Lightning Bolt,
Henry Cow,
Moss Icon,
Ken Boothe,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fugs,
Model 500,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Index,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Vladislav Delay,
Circle Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Con Funk Shun,
Siglo XX,
Dual Sessions,
Unrelated Segments,
John Coltrane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stetsasonic,
Charles Mingus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wasted Youth,
Spandau Ballet,
Wolf Eyes,
Pole,
Tom Boy,
Eden Ahbez,
New Order,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
LL Cool J,
Alice Coltrane,
Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp, Archie Shepp.
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.