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 Qatar and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 the Fania All-Stars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare 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 theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Harry Pussy,
The Last Poets,
Newcleus,
Altered Images,
The Trojans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Enemy,
Yusef Lateef,
The Monochrome Set,
The Count Five,
Suburban Knight,
Camouflage,
Crime,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fear,
The Blues Magoos,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxette,
Hardrive,
Cheater Slicks,
Oneida,
Spoonie Gee,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Organ,
Soft Cell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Anthony Braxton,
Underground Resistance,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Angry Samoans,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bootsy Collins,
Clear Light,
L. Decosne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bob Dylan,
Gang of Four,
Marvin Gaye,
Lucky Dragons,
UT,
Flipper,
Tim Buckley,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
48th St. Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Fela Kuti,
Fluxion,
Pylon,
Robert Hood,
Sällskapet,
Althea and Donna,
The Gladiators,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cymande,
Susan Cadogan,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.