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 Bolivia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cal Tjader 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb 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?
Bush Tetras,
Barclay James Harvest,
Saccharine Trust,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alice Coltrane,
The Last Poets,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Lydon,
Unwound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Dirtbombs,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
Judy Mowatt,
Theoretical Girls,
The Names,
The Mojo Men,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
MDC,
The Seeds,
Bootsy Collins,
10cc,
Deakin,
Siglo XX,
Ornette Coleman,
Outsiders,
Brass Construction,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Green,
Pylon,
This Heat,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Clarke,
Kerrie Biddell,
Make Up,
Steve Hackett,
Bronski Beat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
Jawbox,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Altered Images,
Peter & Gordon,
Soul II Soul,
CMW,
Crime,
The Buckinghams,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radiohead,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nik Kershaw,
Sound Behaviour,
The Misunderstood,
Massinfluence,
Sister Nancy,
Patti Smith,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.