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 Gabon and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Christie,
Minutemen,
Joe Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fatback Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Schoolly D,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sister Nancy,
Unwound,
Junior Murvin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Country Teasers,
Vainqueur,
The Monks,
The Litter,
Depeche Mode,
The Doors,
Mantronix,
Radio Birdman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roy Ayers,
Hasil Adkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rod Modell,
Aural Exciters,
Buzzcocks,
Camouflage,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gong,
the Association,
the Slits,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quando Quango,
The Index,
Rufus Thomas,
Ten City,
Cameo,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Durutti Column,
Byron Stingily,
The Five Americans,
Boredoms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry's Kids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camberwell Now,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
John Foxx,
Mr. Review,
Arthur Verocai,
Laurel Aitken,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Alphaville,
The Count Five,
Sun Ra,
Black Moon,
Nico,
John Holt,
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.