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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Ornette Coleman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron 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 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?
The Dirtbombs,
Sun City Girls,
Lungfish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Essential Logic,
Infiniti,
Mad Mike,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cluster,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sällskapet,
Gong,
Cal Tjader,
Joey Negro,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Surgeon,
Monolake,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Leonard Cohen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scratch Acid,
Reuben Wilson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gang Starr,
Cecil Taylor,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Yellowson,
The Cowsills,
La Düsseldorf,
kango's stein massive,
Fluxion,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scrapy,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oblivians,
Swell Maps,
Dorothy Ashby,
Excepter,
Arthur Verocai,
Crash Course in Science,
Urselle,
Vladislav Delay,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Searchers,
DJ Style,
Dennis Brown,
The Modern Lovers,
The Barracudas,
48th St. Collective,
Unwound,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.