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 Ireland and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the jazz 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 clarinet and a harpsichord 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ornette Coleman,
X-101,
The Leaves,
Babytalk,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
The Fall,
The Names,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Smiths,
Bob Dylan,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
Cal Tjader,
World's Most,
Sandy B,
Black Sheep,
Public Enemy,
Patti Smith,
Grandmaster Flash,
Goldenarms,
Idris Muhammad,
New York Dolls,
Cameo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DNA,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nation of Ulysses,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Howard Jones,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fuzztones,
Pantytec,
Bronski Beat,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ice-T,
Brothers Johnson,
The Golliwogs,
Banda Bassotti,
Newcleus,
Liliput,
Gong,
Y Pants,
Maurizio,
Flamin' Groovies,
Graham Central Station,
Minny Pops,
The Techniques,
Rakim,
Surgeon,
Fat Boys,
David Bowie,
Porter Ricks,
Crime,
The Shadows of Knight,
Index,
Vainqueur,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maleditus Sound,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.