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 Guinea and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Monochrome Set to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lou Christie,
Young Marble Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Anthony Braxton,
Agent Orange,
Deepchord,
Rod Modell,
Panda Bear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
EPMD,
Blancmange,
Rapeman,
The Last Poets,
X-102,
The Grass Roots,
Parry Music,
Sandy B,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Don Cherry,
Massinfluence,
Severed Heads,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Techniques,
Chris Corsano,
Jeff Lynne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Moon,
Schoolly D,
Ludus,
Cymande,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
KRS-One,
The Pop Group,
Radio Birdman,
The Real Kids,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kas Product,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lower 48,
This Heat,
Stereo Dub,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mission of Burma,
The Durutti Column,
Gang Green,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Warren Ellis,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Cale,
AZ,
Al Stewart,
The Martian,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.