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 Switzerland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Grauzone to the techno 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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Style 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
Essential Logic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
The Fuzztones,
Kas Product,
Wasted Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Q and Not U,
Robert Hood,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Pole,
Goldenarms,
Loose Ends,
Stereo Dub,
Agitation Free,
Marine Girls,
Black Pus,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
The Martian,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Graham Central Station,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eve St. Jones,
Warsaw,
The Neon Judgement,
Throbbing Gristle,
OOIOO,
The New Christs,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Kaleidoscope,
Jesper Dahlback,
Angry Samoans,
cv313,
Howard Jones,
Shoche,
Ultravox,
Porter Ricks,
Henry Cow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Lydon,
Procol Harum,
Arcadia,
Johnny Osbourne,
Funkadelic,
Ituana,
Aaron Thompson,
Zero Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.