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 Bahrain and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lalo Schifrin to the jazz 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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Babytalk,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Gang Green,
Neil Young,
The Velvet Underground,
Funky Four + One,
Average White Band,
Radiohead,
Black Flag,
Public Enemy,
Adolescents,
Tres Demented,
Carl Craig,
Anthony Braxton,
Cluster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Moss Icon,
The Durutti Column,
Supertramp,
Rekid,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Womack,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Derrick May,
Ornette Coleman,
David Bowie,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nas,
Oblivians,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
Whodini,
Marvin Gaye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Section 25,
The New Christs,
Faraquet,
Das Ding,
The Trojans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Music Machine,
The Monks,
Japan,
Marshall Jefferson,
John Cale,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Darondo,
Kerri Chandler,
Roger Hodgson,
Anakelly,
Minutemen,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.