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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 MC5 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and an arpeggiator 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter & Gordon,
Smog,
U.S. Maple,
Boz Scaggs,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Q65,
Unwound,
Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Motorama,
cv313,
Joe Smooth,
Rosa Yemen,
David McCallum,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Barracudas,
Metal Thangz,
Carl Craig,
Nik Kershaw,
Tres Demented,
MC5,
Ken Boothe,
Funky Four + One,
The Litter,
Scan 7,
Los Fastidios,
Black Moon,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
Wire,
Cameo,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chrome,
Bobby Sherman,
Byron Stingily,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mission of Burma,
The Sound,
Quando Quango,
Rufus Thomas,
The Velvet Underground,
Patti Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Arab on Radar,
Massinfluence,
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Mo-Dettes,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris & Cosey,
Arcadia,
a-ha,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Searchers,
Infiniti,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.