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 Tonga and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dennis Brown to the grime 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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum 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 oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Inner City,
Robert Görl,
The Slackers,
The Happenings,
Scratch Acid,
The Litter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sun Ra,
The Sonics,
Babytalk,
Symarip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
The Names,
Gang Green,
Visage,
Scientists,
Roxy Music,
Donald Byrd,
Theoretical Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hot Snakes,
Reagan Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Bar-Kays,
Warren Ellis,
Heaven 17,
Albert Ayler,
Faust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Brick,
The Moleskins,
The Skatalites,
Amon Düül,
Gong,
Mars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Amazonics,
Harry Pussy,
James White and The Blacks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
The Grass Roots,
Panda Bear,
Janne Schatter,
48th St. Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rod Modell,
Michelle Simonal,
Joensuu 1685,
Aloha Tigers,
Bronski Beat,
Agent Orange,
The Gladiators,
L. Decosne,
John Cale,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.