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 South Sudan and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer 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 sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
The Gap Band,
The Golliwogs,
Little Man,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
Minutemen,
Heaven 17,
The Barracudas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Niagra,
The Selecter,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Sonics,
Arthur Verocai,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
The Fall,
Brick,
Procol Harum,
Camberwell Now,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
Q65,
Gang Green,
Fad Gadget,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Stooges,
Make Up,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Derrick May,
Can,
DNA,
Wire,
The Saints,
Outsiders,
Sam Rivers,
Silicon Teens,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
Adolescents,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brand Nubian,
Rhythm & Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fire Engines,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rites of Spring,
Deakin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sound Behaviour,
Leonard Cohen,
Pere Ubu,
Groovy Waters,
Zero Boys,
Yazoo,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.