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 Iraq and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the rock 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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum 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 güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Stockholm Monsters,
Graham Central Station,
The Names,
Echospace,
The Happenings,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Erasure,
Eddi Front,
The Kinks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
Junior Murvin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Matthew Halsall,
The American Breed,
Leonard Cohen,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Remains,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultimate Spinach,
June of 44,
Young Marble Giants,
Yazoo,
Tears for Fears,
The Residents,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wolf Eyes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Maleditus Sound,
John Coltrane,
Wings,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
The United States of America,
Supertramp,
Nirvana,
Gang Green,
PIL,
Man Eating Sloth,
Adolescents,
Terrestrial Tones,
Slick Rick,
Trumans Water,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
Moss Icon,
EPMD,
Cal Tjader,
Excepter,
Thee Headcoats,
Rites of Spring,
Freddie Wadling,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.