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 Indonesia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Anthony Braxton to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Names,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Charles Mingus,
the Swans,
H. Thieme,
Intrusion,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick Morgan,
JFA,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
Camberwell Now,
Soul II Soul,
Essential Logic,
Slave,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The American Breed,
Livin' Joy,
John Foxx,
The Gladiators,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Barracudas,
Fatback Band,
Nirvana,
Roxette,
Easy Going,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Chris Corsano,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Steve Hackett,
A Certain Ratio,
Sugar Minott,
The Blackbyrds,
48th St. Collective,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Fania All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-102,
Dead Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Fugazi,
Todd Rundgren,
Animal Collective,
Scrapy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Reuben Wilson,
Cal Tjader,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Offenders,
Hardrive,
Parry Music,
Fela Kuti,
Bush Tetras,
Rotary Connection,
Jacob Miller,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.