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 Netherlands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kool Moe Dee to the punk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
The Five Americans,
Aural Exciters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Zero Boys,
The Cramps,
David Axelrod,
Flipper,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Desert Stars,
Dawn Penn,
June Days,
Brand Nubian,
Sam Rivers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fugs,
ABC,
The Cure,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
Rites of Spring,
Silicon Teens,
the Human League,
X-Ray Spex,
Quando Quango,
Erasure,
The Buckinghams,
Dead Boys,
Sonny Sharrock,
Can,
Barbara Tucker,
48th St. Collective,
Main Source,
Sugar Minott,
The Fuzztones,
The Fire Engines,
Siglo XX,
Don Cherry,
Pere Ubu,
Y Pants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gories,
The Durutti Column,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radiohead,
Audionom,
Chrome,
Newcleus,
Infiniti,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fall,
The Last Poets,
Con Funk Shun,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Qualms,
Cymande,
Ludus,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.