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 Taipei.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Reuben Wilson 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
Crime,
Todd Terry,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter and Kerry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Star Department,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Khruangbin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bang On A Can,
Funkadelic,
Scan 7,
Outsiders,
Sixth Finger,
Alison Limerick,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
Sällskapet,
The Kinks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gang of Four,
Soul II Soul,
Barbara Tucker,
Kenny Larkin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rosa Yemen,
Aloha Tigers,
Black Pus,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
These Immortal Souls,
Supertramp,
Panda Bear,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slick Rick,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camouflage,
Anthony Braxton,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Raincoats,
Tom Boy,
DJ Style,
Shoche,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Public Image Ltd.,
KRS-One,
The United States of America,
Masters at Work,
Tears for Fears,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
Black Sheep,
Minutemen,
Warsaw,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.