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 Peru and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba 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 sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Simply Red,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Davy DMX,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
Minny Pops,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
Sarah Menescal,
Chris & Cosey,
Lakeside,
Parry Music,
New Age Steppers,
The Flesh Eaters,
These Immortal Souls,
Althea and Donna,
Interpol,
Whodini,
The Durutti Column,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jerry's Kids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Todd Terry,
The Monks,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Bill Near,
ABC,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wings,
Soulsonic Force,
Unwound,
The Gladiators,
Symarip,
Barclay James Harvest,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
Scan 7,
Dawn Penn,
Crime,
Bill Wells,
Circle Jerks,
Buzzcocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terry Callier,
The Victims,
Lou Christie,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
The Motions,
Grey Daturas,
World's Most,
L. Decosne,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.