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 Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Henry Cow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 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 Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
John Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smoke,
The Selecter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Make Up,
Soft Machine,
Dead Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Erykah Badu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Peter and Kerry,
Young Marble Giants,
Kayak,
Minor Threat,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
cv313,
The Gun Club,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
Sight & Sound,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Reed,
Pagans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Massinfluence,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scott Walker,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Near,
The Fortunes,
Agitation Free,
Thee Headcoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Anthony Braxton,
Freddie Wadling,
Hot Snakes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Circle Jerks,
The Toasters,
DJ Style,
Yellowson,
Depeche Mode,
The Buckinghams,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
Deakin,
Aswad,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blossom Toes,
Vainqueur,
Funkadelic,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.