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 Syria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Index 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Moss Icon,
Minnie Riperton,
Bob Dylan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ornette Coleman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delta 5,
PIL,
Sugar Minott,
Sun Ra,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
Mars,
K-Klass,
ABC,
The Vogues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Wally Richardson,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
Crime,
Aloha Tigers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ossler,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terry Callier,
Section 25,
Sister Nancy,
The Knickerbockers,
Interpol,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The United States of America,
Groovy Waters,
Absolute Body Control,
Liliput,
Pantaleimon,
Theoretical Girls,
Symarip,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anthony Braxton,
Lyres,
Graham Central Station,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
Malaria!,
Index,
Ten City,
Flipper,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marmalade,
Robert Wyatt,
The Mojo Men,
Black Pus,
Desert Stars,
Q and Not U,
The Cure,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.