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 Montenegro and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the grunge 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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 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 sitar and a güiro 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Mantronix,
Ultra Naté,
Pole,
Darondo,
Rapeman,
Letta Mbulu,
Flamin' Groovies,
New York Dolls,
The Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reuben Wilson,
Das Ding,
Boredoms,
Eden Ahbez,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Judy Mowatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bauhaus,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Pus,
The Dead C,
Josef K,
Pere Ubu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minor Threat,
Subhumans,
The Martian,
Stetsasonic,
Eve St. Jones,
Arab on Radar,
The Moleskins,
Index,
Black Bananas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Japan,
Metal Thangz,
Fluxion,
The New Christs,
Scan 7,
Jimmy McGriff,
Donny Hathaway,
Kevin Saunderson,
Colin Newman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Second Layer,
EPMD,
Crispy Ambulance,
Monks,
Hoover,
Black Moon,
Silicon Teens,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Oblivians,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joey Negro,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.