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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Country Teasers to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wire,
Goldenarms,
Howard Jones,
Khruangbin,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grauzone,
Dawn Penn,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A,
Toni Rubio,
Godley & Creme,
Pantytec,
Qualms,
Rekid,
Kerri Chandler,
Dark Day,
48th St. Collective,
Alison Limerick,
The Golliwogs,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nils Olav,
Moebius,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Leonard Cohen,
June of 44,
Parry Music,
The New Christs,
Roxy Music,
Absolute Body Control,
Terry Callier,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Man Parrish,
The Techniques,
Au Pairs,
The Mojo Men,
James White and The Blacks,
Bronski Beat,
Lucky Dragons,
Newcleus,
The Blackbyrds,
Idris Muhammad,
Charles Mingus,
Judy Mowatt,
Jacob Miller,
Radio Birdman,
Sex Pistols,
Fatback Band,
One Last Wish,
Simply Red,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amazonics,
Organ,
Lyres,
Underground Resistance,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.