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 Zimbabwe and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bill Near 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arthur Verocai,
Nico,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pulsallama,
The United States of America,
Wasted Youth,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Gap Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Whodini,
Magazine,
Circle Jerks,
Sarah Menescal,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Charles Mingus,
LL Cool J,
The Blues Magoos,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Grey Daturas,
T.S.O.L.,
Vainqueur,
Quadrant,
Thompson Twins,
Pantytec,
The Flesh Eaters,
Adolescents,
Japan,
Faust,
Nils Olav,
Roxette,
Mandrill,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Avey Tare,
The Five Americans,
UT,
Half Japanese,
Ralphi Rosario,
Hoover,
Marc Almond,
E-Dancer,
Television,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mission of Burma,
Joey Negro,
Bob Dylan,
The Evens,
Shoche,
Tres Demented,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
Marmalade,
Archie Shepp,
Swans,
John Holt,
Boz Scaggs,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.