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 Belize and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 OOIOO to the electroclash 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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Sherman,
Audionom,
Fad Gadget,
Pulsallama,
Heaven 17,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter & Gordon,
Monks,
the Association,
Deakin,
Talk Talk,
Junior Murvin,
The Music Machine,
Sex Pistols,
the Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronan,
The Selecter,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Angry Samoans,
Gichy Dan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mojo Men,
Japan,
Glenn Branca,
Maurizio,
Monolake,
Susan Cadogan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cameo,
Lou Reed,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sparks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
D'Angelo,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rekid,
John Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Davy DMX,
Sister Nancy,
Kaleidoscope,
Pylon,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alphaville,
Flipper,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
Essential Logic,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.