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 Antigua and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Theoretical Girls to the grunge 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
John Cale,
Scion,
Tom Boy,
Kas Product,
Joe Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eden Ahbez,
Duran Duran,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Terry,
Bang On A Can,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Deadbeat,
Laurel Aitken,
The Moleskins,
The Victims,
Yusef Lateef,
Fatback Band,
Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
Rosa Yemen,
Metal Thangz,
The Pop Group,
The Associates,
Harry Pussy,
Toni Rubio,
Kerri Chandler,
The Happenings,
Oneida,
Minor Threat,
Zero Boys,
Suicide,
Circle Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Hill,
The Real Kids,
Basic Channel,
Motorama,
New Age Steppers,
The Buckinghams,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Porter Ricks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Subhumans,
Schoolly D,
Roxette,
Wally Richardson,
Cecil Taylor,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Talk Talk,
Sister Nancy,
Albert Ayler,
The Golliwogs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rod Modell,
The Techniques,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.