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 Swaziland and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Joey Negro to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 spring reverb and a theremin 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 oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Clear Light,
Wasted Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stereo Dub,
Fugazi,
Trumans Water,
The Skatalites,
Infiniti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeff Mills,
Idris Muhammad,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Angry Samoans,
Eve St. Jones,
Smog,
Bobby Womack,
Albert Ayler,
Arcadia,
Morten Harket,
Public Enemy,
Procol Harum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wings,
Rotary Connection,
Peter & Gordon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unwound,
Mandrill,
Alphaville,
Nas,
Swell Maps,
T. Rex,
Sällskapet,
Visage,
Bush Tetras,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Little Man,
the Human League,
Isaac Hayes,
Rapeman,
Metal Thangz,
Chrome,
Pussy Galore,
Liliput,
Animal Collective,
Suicide,
Todd Terry,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jandek,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Delon & Dalcan,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.