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 Yemen and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro 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 Stereo Dub to the crunk 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Crash Course in Science,
the Soft Cell,
the Sonics,
Agent Orange,
Sugar Minott,
The Smoke,
Wings,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
The Litter,
Radio Birdman,
Oneida,
Eddi Front,
Oblivians,
UT,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terry Callier,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
The Neon Judgement,
Camberwell Now,
The Tremeloes,
Kenny Larkin,
The Young Rascals,
The Angels of Light,
48th St. Collective,
The Trojans,
Desert Stars,
PIL,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Supertramp,
Symarip,
The Names,
Maurizio,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hardrive,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yellowson,
Harry Pussy,
Eve St. Jones,
The Golliwogs,
Tubeway Army,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Fania All-Stars,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Monochrome Set,
Bauhaus,
Sun Ra,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fall,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roxette,
The Fire Engines,
Dave Gahan,
MDC,
The Fuzztones,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.