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 Seychelles and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 kango's stein massive to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord 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 mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Freddie Wadling,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Monks,
The Pop Group,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-Ray Spex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Machine,
Essential Logic,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
R.M.O.,
Electric Prunes,
X-102,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiohead,
Depeche Mode,
The Velvet Underground,
Guru Guru,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joy Division,
Nils Olav,
Newcleus,
Jeff Mills,
Colin Newman,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Archie Shepp,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cluster,
The Zeros,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marine Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Iggy Pop,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angry Samoans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
One Last Wish,
Absolute Body Control,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Pantaleimon,
Michelle Simonal,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ludus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.