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 St Lucia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Duran Duran to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents 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?
John Lydon,
Idris Muhammad,
Trumans Water,
Toni Rubio,
Althea and Donna,
KRS-One,
The Slits,
Average White Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Dorothy Ashby,
Byron Stingily,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Blossom Toes,
Tom Boy,
The Shadows of Knight,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
China Crisis,
Pantytec,
Echospace,
Aswad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Don Cherry,
Rosa Yemen,
Gerry Rafferty,
ABC,
Peter & Gordon,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
The Moody Blues,
Joy Division,
Model 500,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fire Engines,
Sex Pistols,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Angels of Light,
Thee Headcoats,
X-Ray Spex,
Scan 7,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fluxion,
The Cramps,
Black Moon,
The Sound,
Wings,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Pulsallama,
JFA,
The Wake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barrington Levy,
Hashim,
Monolake,
Radiohead,
Aaron Thompson,
Minor Threat,
Cymande,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.