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 Georgia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar 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 marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Archie Shepp,
Blossom Toes,
Sight & Sound,
Reagan Youth,
The Trojans,
The Sonics,
The Names,
The Divine Comedy,
Boz Scaggs,
Camberwell Now,
Minor Threat,
Al Stewart,
X-101,
Porter Ricks,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Black Dice,
Pussy Galore,
Ralphi Rosario,
Japan,
Marc Almond,
Unwound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Scratch Acid,
John Lydon,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
Mars,
Mark Hollis,
Joe Finger,
Yaz,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Vladislav Delay,
Easy Going,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
Quando Quango,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric Copeland,
Delta 5,
The Modern Lovers,
Gang of Four,
Minny Pops,
Steve Hackett,
The Gap Band,
Avey Tare,
Kaleidoscope,
Lucky Dragons,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Busters,
The Smoke,
Banda Bassotti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.