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 Libya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 New Order to the rock 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare 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 rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Victims,
Mars,
Marmalade,
Man Parrish,
a-ha,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tom Boy,
Minor Threat,
Derrick Morgan,
The Moleskins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
48th St. Collective,
Flipper,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aaron Thompson,
John Lydon,
Niagra,
Unwound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Human League,
Slick Rick,
Chrome,
cv313,
Cheater Slicks,
Rites of Spring,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Thee Headcoats,
Swans,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Zapp,
Porter Ricks,
The Standells,
Shoche,
Gichy Dan,
Nico,
These Immortal Souls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Dave Clark Five,
Massinfluence,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Swans,
Saccharine Trust,
Khruangbin,
Soulsonic Force,
Shuggie Otis,
Organ,
B.T. Express,
The Star Department,
Sister Nancy,
Rakim,
Prince Buster,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Suicide,
Crime,
Bush Tetras,
Tim Buckley,
Basic Channel,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.