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 Canada and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roxy Music to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes 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 oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Drexciya,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Barry Ungar,
Make Up,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
FM Einheit,
Infiniti,
Urselle,
Spoonie Gee,
UT,
Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Alton Ellis,
Pylon,
Bobby Sherman,
Moby Grape,
Marvin Gaye,
Joensuu 1685,
Nas,
X-Ray Spex,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jeff Mills,
Joey Negro,
Brothers Johnson,
Byron Stingily,
Reuben Wilson,
Sound Behaviour,
Neil Young,
Roxette,
Lalann,
the Sonics,
The Smiths,
Hardrive,
The Martian,
Carl Craig,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
Avey Tare,
Tomorrow,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Subhumans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Q and Not U,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blake Baxter,
Interpol,
Radiohead,
Visage,
Bootsy Collins,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.