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 Mauritania and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a clarinet and a guitar 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Pierre Henry,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
The Beau Brummels,
AZ,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gun Club,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hot Snakes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
Tropical Tobacco,
Model 500,
This Heat,
The Pretty Things,
Theoretical Girls,
Donald Byrd,
Newcleus,
Ohio Players,
Q and Not U,
The Gladiators,
The Last Poets,
Panda Bear,
Magazine,
The Walker Brothers,
LL Cool J,
the Germs,
Soul II Soul,
Make Up,
Chris & Cosey,
Don Cherry,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Five Americans,
Livin' Joy,
Soul Sonic Force,
David Bowie,
Sight & Sound,
Brand Nubian,
H. Thieme,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare,
Ornette Coleman,
Deadbeat,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Misunderstood,
Faraquet,
Minny Pops,
The Dead C,
Erykah Badu,
Terry Callier,
The Fuzztones,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.