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 Kenya and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 United States of America to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a theremin 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arthur Verocai,
Eddi Front,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boredoms,
48th St. Collective,
Kenny Larkin,
ABBA,
X-101,
the Slits,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marine Girls,
The Toasters,
Depeche Mode,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fluxion,
Dead Boys,
Animal Collective,
The Associates,
Mr. Review,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pharoah Sanders,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Supertramp,
Second Layer,
Danielle Patucci,
Zero Boys,
The Techniques,
Laurel Aitken,
Skriet,
Suburban Knight,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Smiths,
Severed Heads,
Lyres,
Sonic Youth,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Yusef Lateef,
T.S.O.L.,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
Colin Newman,
Glenn Branca,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Main Source,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fear,
Crime,
L. Decosne,
Joensuu 1685,
Mad Mike,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.