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 Syria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Y Pants to the dance 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro 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 harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Brand Nubian,
Little Man,
June Days,
Flipper,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Near,
Ten City,
Neu!,
The Leaves,
Josef K,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Circle Jerks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Happenings,
Godley & Creme,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
AZ,
Letta Mbulu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minny Pops,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Depeche Mode,
Yazoo,
Wally Richardson,
Eve St. Jones,
Scratch Acid,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sound,
Organ,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Visage,
Eddi Front,
Dorothy Ashby,
Absolute Body Control,
Siglo XX,
Bronski Beat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Porter Ricks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
a-ha,
Sarah Menescal,
Eurythmics,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Pole,
Lucky Dragons,
Simply Red,
Bobby Womack,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
In Retrospect,
Yusef Lateef,
Reagan Youth,
The Toasters,
The Martian,
Moss Icon,
The Five Americans,
New Age Steppers,
Eden Ahbez,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.