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 Sweden and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Gang Gang Dance to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a theremin 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 chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Black Moon,
Audionom,
Wasted Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
Tres Demented,
Faust,
Outsiders,
DJ Style,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Byrd,
Skaos,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Minnie Riperton,
E-Dancer,
Arthur Verocai,
Symarip,
Joensuu 1685,
The Star Department,
Carl Craig,
Monolake,
Pere Ubu,
Jacob Miller,
Bobby Sherman,
John Coltrane,
Bizarre Inc.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Remains,
La Düsseldorf,
These Immortal Souls,
Mandrill,
Lucky Dragons,
Marc Almond,
The J.B.'s,
The Residents,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bush Tetras,
Amon Düül II,
Loose Ends,
New Order,
Circle Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pantaleimon,
Bill Near,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Main Source,
Von Mondo,
Matthew Bourne,
ABBA,
Brand Nubian,
The Victims,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.