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 India and from Milan.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Lou Reed 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 Eric Copeland to the funk 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
The Fuzztones,
Grauzone,
Ludus,
Yusef Lateef,
Supertramp,
Ice-T,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
The Zeros,
Accadde A,
Darondo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lungfish,
Theoretical Girls,
Swans,
Metal Thangz,
Ossler,
Rosa Yemen,
Albert Ayler,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Aaron Thompson,
Ten City,
Iggy Pop,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lalann,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David McCallum,
Dark Day,
Lyres,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bad Manners,
Blake Baxter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Names,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Procol Harum,
Deepchord,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Popol Vuh,
Essential Logic,
Jandek,
Angry Samoans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Monks,
Bobby Byrd,
The Tremeloes,
Junior Murvin,
Nico,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
The Slits,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scrapy,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.