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 Philippines and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Chris Corsano to the jazz 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Schoolly D,
The Residents,
Bush Tetras,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
Scott Walker,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Teasers,
The Buckinghams,
Porter Ricks,
Sam Rivers,
ABC,
Letta Mbulu,
The Black Dice,
Aaron Thompson,
Mo-Dettes,
Don Cherry,
the Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
The Trojans,
Pulsallama,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lyres,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mark Hollis,
Y Pants,
Anthony Braxton,
Monks,
Sandy B,
Al Stewart,
Crispian St. Peters,
Dennis Brown,
Tres Demented,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bizarre Inc.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Bananas,
The Litter,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
Jacques Brel,
Thompson Twins,
The Names,
D'Angelo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick May,
The Zeros,
Albert Ayler,
Deakin,
Q65,
Cal Tjader,
Magma,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
Barry Ungar,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.