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 Mauritania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 disco 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba 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 linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
U.S. Maple,
H. Thieme,
Gastr Del Sol,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Walker Brothers,
Essential Logic,
Wolf Eyes,
In Retrospect,
These Immortal Souls,
kango's stein massive,
John Lydon,
Ponytail,
The Names,
The New Christs,
Masters at Work,
The Toasters,
The Doors,
The Victims,
The Smoke,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yazoo,
Gang Green,
Bang On A Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Pop Group,
New York Dolls,
Lightning Bolt,
Ken Boothe,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pagans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Gun Club,
Pantytec,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Donny Hathaway,
the Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blackbyrds,
Television Personalities,
Banda Bassotti,
Drexciya,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eric Dolphy,
Thee Headcoats,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter and Kerry,
The Standells,
The Searchers,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.