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 Spain and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 The Red Krayola to the punk 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Ronnie Foster,
La Düsseldorf,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sex Pistols,
Procol Harum,
a-ha,
Motorama,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Human League,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
The Red Krayola,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eve St. Jones,
Jacques Brel,
The Velvet Underground,
Soul II Soul,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Walker Brothers,
Prince Buster,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Ludus,
Glenn Branca,
Vladislav Delay,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radio Birdman,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Susan Cadogan,
DNA,
Goldenarms,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kas Product,
cv313,
Matthew Bourne,
Visage,
Black Bananas,
the Normal,
Bluetip,
Malaria!,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minnie Riperton,
Circle Jerks,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
Cecil Taylor,
Wasted Youth,
The Stooges,
Harpers Bizarre,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Eurythmics,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.