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 Eritrea and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Severed Heads to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb 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 organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moss Icon,
Iggy Pop,
The Young Rascals,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Knickerbockers,
Eric Dolphy,
Unrelated Segments,
Roxette,
Boogie Down Productions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
Chrome,
the Association,
Derrick Morgan,
The Gap Band,
Kenny Larkin,
Con Funk Shun,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mark Hollis,
The Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Underground Resistance,
The Grass Roots,
Hoover,
The Fortunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
T.S.O.L.,
Visage,
Rhythm & Sound,
Andrew Hill,
David Bowie,
Gong,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Terry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun City Girls,
Theoretical Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Agent Orange,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Sheep,
Ronan,
Von Mondo,
Heaven 17,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nick Fraelich,
Audionom,
Morten Harket,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
Alton Ellis,
The Victims,
The Remains,
Nirvana,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.