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 Malawi and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 Robert Hood to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a snare 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 snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
The Martian,
the Slits,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The American Breed,
DNA,
a-ha,
The Selecter,
Bauhaus,
Wings,
The Sonics,
New Order,
John Lydon,
James White and The Blacks,
The J.B.'s,
Minor Threat,
Cameo,
The Young Rascals,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Hill,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
Au Pairs,
Amon Düül,
The Gap Band,
U.S. Maple,
Albert Ayler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pantytec,
The Litter,
Roger Hodgson,
Peter and Kerry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Urselle,
Eric Dolphy,
Nico,
the Bar-Kays,
The New Christs,
Erykah Badu,
Television,
World's Most,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mad Mike,
Rites of Spring,
Alice Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
Janne Schatter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Davy DMX,
Jacob Miller,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Motions,
Boredoms,
Magma,
Roxy Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.