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 Ukraine and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Byron Stingily to the funk 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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Animal Collective,
Jimmy McGriff,
DNA,
Cal Tjader,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Eurythmics,
Smog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Max Romeo,
Supertramp,
Bob Dylan,
Ohio Players,
Funky Four + One,
Barclay James Harvest,
Arab on Radar,
Cameo,
Monolake,
The Misunderstood,
Chris Corsano,
Sam Rivers,
Ultravox,
Jeff Mills,
Drexciya,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Germs,
Model 500,
Unrelated Segments,
Yaz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Talk Talk,
Joensuu 1685,
Arcadia,
Mandrill,
Kenny Larkin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Banda Bassotti,
T.S.O.L.,
Blossom Toes,
Con Funk Shun,
Carl Craig,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Essential Logic,
Funkadelic,
David Bowie,
Au Pairs,
Peter & Gordon,
Warren Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
Derrick May,
Accadde A,
Lucky Dragons,
The Star Department,
The Residents,
Chrome,
Dual Sessions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.