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 United States and from Calgary.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Oneida to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Leonard Cohen,
Adolescents,
Alice Coltrane,
The Index,
Bill Wells,
Cymande,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joe Smooth,
The Real Kids,
The Blues Magoos,
Todd Rundgren,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bluetip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kayak,
Marine Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Skriet,
Terry Callier,
The Fire Engines,
Underground Resistance,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Halsall,
Roxette,
The Searchers,
Pierre Henry,
Black Moon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eddi Front,
Zapp,
MC5,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
Rakim,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hot Snakes,
Barbara Tucker,
Duran Duran,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
Josef K,
Kevin Saunderson,
Heaven 17,
Blake Baxter,
Lucky Dragons,
Slave,
Ludus,
Unwound,
Unrelated Segments,
Nils Olav,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fuzztones,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.