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 Kazakhstan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ossler to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Ten City,
Gang Starr,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Black Flag,
Heaven 17,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Q65,
The Leaves,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
Electric Prunes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Erasure,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
Faraquet,
Hashim,
Country Teasers,
Visage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Enemy,
Sun City Girls,
Pole,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yusef Lateef,
Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Roxette,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Vogues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mission of Burma,
Silicon Teens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Guru Guru,
Blossom Toes,
Essential Logic,
Average White Band,
cv313,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
John Lydon,
Bang On A Can,
Johnny Clarke,
Popol Vuh,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grey Daturas,
Crooked Eye,
Brothers Johnson,
Mad Mike,
Moss Icon,
The Martian,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Lynne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.