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 Ghana and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ten City to the jazz 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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes 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 arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Electric Prunes,
The Pop Group,
T. Rex,
Porter Ricks,
Soft Cell,
Little Man,
Model 500,
Lindisfarne,
Peter & Gordon,
Radio Birdman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Y Pants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Cale,
Scratch Acid,
Yellowson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Roger Hodgson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Modern Lovers,
World's Most,
Dual Sessions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacques Brel,
Kerri Chandler,
Eve St. Jones,
Mantronix,
Thee Headcoats,
Pole,
Pierre Henry,
Magma,
Pantytec,
Severed Heads,
The Fuzztones,
The Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Birthday Party,
Silicon Teens,
Talk Talk,
Soft Machine,
Alton Ellis,
Monolake,
Newcleus,
The Fall,
Mission of Burma,
the Human League,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
Gerry Rafferty,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Harmonia,
48th St. Collective,
KRS-One,
Arthur Verocai,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
K-Klass,
Arcadia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.