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 Guinea-Bissau and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Neon Judgement to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba 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 marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Babytalk,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
The Cowsills,
Marine Girls,
Parry Music,
Quando Quango,
Vainqueur,
Lower 48,
The Doobie Brothers,
Franke,
Henry Cow,
kango's stein massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lindisfarne,
The New Christs,
Zero Boys,
Outsiders,
Section 25,
John Lydon,
Flipper,
the Swans,
Country Teasers,
Fela Kuti,
Glenn Branca,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Trojans,
New Order,
Danielle Patucci,
Eve St. Jones,
The Index,
Ornette Coleman,
New York Dolls,
Roy Ayers,
Spoonie Gee,
David Bowie,
Ohio Players,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Residents,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
The Gap Band,
Alison Limerick,
Pole,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Easy Going,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Amon Düül II,
The Buckinghams,
Girls At Our Best!,
48th St. Collective,
One Last Wish,
Derrick May,
Ludus,
Josef K,
Unwound,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.