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 San Marino and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Woodstock.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Groovy Waters to the techno 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet 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 harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Heaven 17,
Ultimate Spinach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Monolake,
Todd Terry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Bar-Kays,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Human League,
Ralphi Rosario,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Barracudas,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vladislav Delay,
Parry Music,
Nico,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dual Sessions,
Sarah Menescal,
The Offenders,
Brick,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Slits,
The Star Department,
Country Teasers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Doors,
Depeche Mode,
Black Pus,
Letta Mbulu,
Hashim,
John Coltrane,
Scan 7,
Fad Gadget,
Pylon,
Pere Ubu,
The Busters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Althea and Donna,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Osbourne,
Severed Heads,
Cameo,
Aaron Thompson,
New York Dolls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monks,
Gabor Szabo,
Fear,
Black Flag,
The Selecter,
Man Parrish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.