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 Czech Republic and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord 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 snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Nico,
The Fuzztones,
Scratch Acid,
Clear Light,
James White and The Blacks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Gun Club,
The Real Kids,
Sarah Menescal,
EPMD,
Wings,
John Foxx,
10cc,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lou Reed,
Bang On A Can,
Ronan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mars,
The Durutti Column,
Erykah Badu,
Hardrive,
The Names,
Rapeman,
Underground Resistance,
Liliput,
The Human League,
Porter Ricks,
Thompson Twins,
ABC,
World's Most,
Swell Maps,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Neon Judgement,
Fatback Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rod Modell,
Trumans Water,
John Coltrane,
Main Source,
Panda Bear,
Funkadelic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anthony Braxton,
The Trojans,
Ornette Coleman,
Little Man,
Sight & Sound,
Crime,
Blancmange,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Almond,
Donald Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Yusef Lateef,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
Danielle Patucci,
Outsiders,
Alton Ellis,
Mr. Review,
Terry Callier,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.