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 Namibia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Clear Light to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Sex Pistols,
Fad Gadget,
Funky Four + One,
Arcadia,
Oneida,
The Gladiators,
Ice-T,
Technova,
David Bowie,
Robert Wyatt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dirtbombs,
Moss Icon,
The Monks,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
Reuben Wilson,
Oblivians,
The American Breed,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Fraelich,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang of Four,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
Bluetip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Qualms,
Motorama,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Last Poets,
Model 500,
David McCallum,
Fatback Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Trumans Water,
Boz Scaggs,
The Grass Roots,
Audionom,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Neon Judgement,
Angry Samoans,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Parry Music,
Black Pus,
Barrington Levy,
John Foxx,
Todd Terry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kevin Saunderson,
T.S.O.L.,
The New Christs,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.