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 Malaysia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Suburban Knight to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a rhodes 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 snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
The Music Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
Eurythmics,
Marmalade,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rhythm & Sound,
KRS-One,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Fat Boys,
Rod Modell,
Angry Samoans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stiv Bators,
In Retrospect,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Stereo Dub,
Joy Division,
Mary Jane Girls,
June of 44,
Man Parrish,
Sonic Youth,
Matthew Halsall,
The Beau Brummels,
The Moody Blues,
Danielle Patucci,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
EPMD,
Sällskapet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warren Ellis,
Leonard Cohen,
Andrew Hill,
Graham Central Station,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q and Not U,
Electric Prunes,
Drexciya,
Cybotron,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
The Slackers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
Brand Nubian,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Blossom Toes,
Aswad,
10cc,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cheater Slicks,
Lalann,
Sister Nancy,
Animal Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.