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 Micronesia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Girls At Our Best! to the electroclash 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
The American Breed,
E-Dancer,
Radio Birdman,
Camberwell Now,
Marmalade,
Crime,
Pagans,
Quantec,
Guru Guru,
The Last Poets,
Buzzcocks,
Motorama,
Wire,
Kaleidoscope,
Godley & Creme,
The Gun Club,
Wasted Youth,
Hasil Adkins,
the Sonics,
Ralphi Rosario,
Slick Rick,
Siglo XX,
Reagan Youth,
Suicide,
The Stooges,
Neu!,
The Dead C,
Cecil Taylor,
the Normal,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
The Evens,
Subhumans,
U.S. Maple,
UT,
Tubeway Army,
Nick Fraelich,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Cure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fall,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Slits,
Deepchord,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sam Rivers,
Babytalk,
Angry Samoans,
Severed Heads,
Blossom Toes,
Fad Gadget,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Index,
Joyce Sims,
Delta 5,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.