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 Panama and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the techno 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba 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 a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Deakin,
Schoolly D,
Soulsonic Force,
OOIOO,
Slick Rick,
Man Eating Sloth,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Foxx,
The Gun Club,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Subhumans,
The Move,
Index,
Sällskapet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Franke,
Yazoo,
Junior Murvin,
Dennis Brown,
The Real Kids,
Oneida,
Angry Samoans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Josef K,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joey Negro,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Big Daddy Kane,
Inner City,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radiopuhelimet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
Barrington Levy,
Donald Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Circle Jerks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Man Parrish,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
T. Rex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arab on Radar,
Q and Not U,
The Invisible,
Vladislav Delay,
The Gories,
Tubeway Army,
MDC,
Suburban Knight,
Letta Mbulu,
The Grass Roots,
Basic Channel,
The Cramps,
The Mummies,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.