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 Tanzania and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 The Searchers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a 808 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 arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fortunes,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Simply Red,
Piero Umiliani,
Byron Stingily,
Hoover,
Neu!,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
World's Most,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
Can,
The Happenings,
Make Up,
Black Moon,
Rekid,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Darondo,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Halsall,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fuzztones,
Ponytail,
Gong,
Amazonics,
DJ Style,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alice Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Altered Images,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Zeros,
Henry Cow,
Ronan,
Section 25,
Ken Boothe,
Flipper,
MDC,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Womack,
Buzzcocks,
Harmonia,
Radiohead,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL,
Fatback Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Last Poets,
Skaos,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T.S.O.L.,
FM Einheit,
Ohio Players,
The Five Americans,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.