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 Colombia and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Fela Kuti to the grime 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Neon Judgement,
Zero Boys,
Andrew Hill,
Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Matthew Bourne,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Organ,
Pussy Galore,
The Selecter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
kango's stein massive,
Man Parrish,
Danielle Patucci,
Slave,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Chris & Cosey,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Radiohead,
Pantaleimon,
Fela Kuti,
Suicide,
Jeff Mills,
Janne Schatter,
Erasure,
The Grass Roots,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marvin Gaye,
ABC,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scientists,
The Knickerbockers,
Kenny Larkin,
CMW,
Sparks,
B.T. Express,
Aural Exciters,
LL Cool J,
Ronnie Foster,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Trumans Water,
Traffic Nightmare,
Oblivians,
The Moody Blues,
Kerri Chandler,
Eddi Front,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Qualms,
The Standells,
Buzzcocks,
The Move,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.