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 Uruguay and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Bad Manners to the grunge 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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
The Vogues,
Silicon Teens,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marc Almond,
Lalo Schifrin,
Chris & Cosey,
Girls At Our Best!,
Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
Newcleus,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Sherman,
The Barracudas,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
The Knickerbockers,
Minny Pops,
Colin Newman,
the Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angry Samoans,
Brick,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Y Pants,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Aswad,
Donald Byrd,
Scan 7,
Jawbox,
Severed Heads,
X-102,
Rekid,
Loose Ends,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
Wasted Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Black Bananas,
Country Teasers,
Alphaville,
Ice-T,
Stereo Dub,
Barry Ungar,
Negative Approach,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Victims,
Gong,
L. Decosne,
T. Rex,
Parry Music,
The Pretty Things,
Michelle Simonal,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.