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 Samoa and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Main Source to the crunk 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet 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 theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls,
The Pop Group,
Main Source,
Babytalk,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Qualms,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
Niagra,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
Pole,
The Monochrome Set,
The Red Krayola,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cameo,
The Vogues,
Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Pus,
China Crisis,
Al Stewart,
Matthew Bourne,
Agent Orange,
Suicide,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flipper,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
The Offenders,
Moby Grape,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Junior Murvin,
Warren Ellis,
Roy Ayers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Henry Cow,
Glenn Branca,
Easy Going,
Organ,
Oblivians,
Ituana,
Robert Görl,
Shuggie Otis,
Desert Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
Quadrant,
Sonny Sharrock,
MC5,
The Mojo Men,
F. McDonald,
Radiohead,
The Birthday Party,
The New Christs,
The Grass Roots,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.