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 Guatemala and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the punk 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin 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 guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
The Kinks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Black Pus,
Quando Quango,
Eric Copeland,
The Cure,
Wire,
The Selecter,
Junior Murvin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Charles Mingus,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
DNA,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Godley & Creme,
Carl Craig,
Hot Snakes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Iggy Pop,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ponytail,
Roxy Music,
Yusef Lateef,
Gichy Dan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Holt,
Television,
48th St. Collective,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slackers,
Magazine,
Subhumans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Sheep,
Deakin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Absolute Body Control,
Funkadelic,
Dennis Brown,
Matthew Halsall,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Young Rascals,
Section 25,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Aural Exciters,
Glenn Branca,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Scientists,
Idris Muhammad,
the Sonics,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.