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 Spain and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ice-T to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum 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 organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Roxy Music,
Organ,
Radio Birdman,
Yusef Lateef,
K-Klass,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
Brand Nubian,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oneida,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Swans,
The Busters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brick,
Con Funk Shun,
Lower 48,
Carl Craig,
Don Cherry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
ABC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Names,
One Last Wish,
Absolute Body Control,
Quantec,
Wally Richardson,
Rod Modell,
the Swans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
the Sonics,
Unwound,
the Germs,
Deadbeat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Depeche Mode,
the Human League,
Oblivians,
Alphaville,
Underground Resistance,
PIL,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jandek,
Michelle Simonal,
Cluster,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Henry Cow,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Man Parrish,
Peter and Kerry,
Gabor Szabo,
Harpers Bizarre,
John Foxx,
Alice Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.