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 Bahrain and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Gladiators to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe 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 mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
Joe Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
Kerrie Biddell,
Andrew Hill,
Idris Muhammad,
Nation of Ulysses,
Juan Atkins,
Reuben Wilson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Walker Brothers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Graham Central Station,
Wasted Youth,
The Young Rascals,
Funky Four + One,
Livin' Joy,
The American Breed,
Robert Wyatt,
Angry Samoans,
Sparks,
The Stooges,
Moss Icon,
Infiniti,
John Holt,
The Pretty Things,
Scratch Acid,
Second Layer,
Porter Ricks,
Aural Exciters,
The Motions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chrome,
The Leaves,
Urselle,
Nik Kershaw,
Essential Logic,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
JFA,
The Move,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry's Kids,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wings,
Donald Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fall,
Eve St. Jones,
Lalann,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Masters at Work,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Marine Girls,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.