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 Turkmenistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sällskapet to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Masters at Work,
Warsaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun Ra,
Sandy B,
Boredoms,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television,
The Remains,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fortunes,
Kaleidoscope,
Saccharine Trust,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Don Cherry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jawbox,
Public Enemy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Magma,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Mojo Men,
Ponytail,
The Kinks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Wire,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Neon Judgement,
LL Cool J,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The American Breed,
Arthur Verocai,
The Red Krayola,
Adolescents,
Interpol,
Theoretical Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Black Pus,
EPMD,
Davy DMX,
The Real Kids,
Cluster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang Starr,
Monolake,
Second Layer,
Fugazi,
E-Dancer,
Agitation Free,
Mantronix,
Reuben Wilson,
Kurtis Blow,
Laurel Aitken,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.