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 Mali and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Crispy Ambulance 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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül II,
The Stooges,
Joey Negro,
The Buckinghams,
Unwound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Janne Schatter,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!,
Harpers Bizarre,
Excepter,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Residents,
the Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Sonics,
Scion,
Oneida,
Half Japanese,
the Germs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott Heron,
10cc,
Sarah Menescal,
Absolute Body Control,
Thee Headcoats,
Monolake,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brothers Johnson,
Pantytec,
Cluster,
Yusef Lateef,
Warsaw,
The Human League,
Adolescents,
The Dirtbombs,
Aswad,
Von Mondo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Terrestrial Tones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers,
Surgeon,
Ornette Coleman,
Cecil Taylor,
Section 25,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.