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 Egypt and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Section 25 to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
the Slits,
Rod Modell,
Rakim,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Isaac Hayes,
Boredoms,
The Saints,
Jacob Miller,
Ten City,
In Retrospect,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aloha Tigers,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
The Invisible,
Janne Schatter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Lynne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Livin' Joy,
Nik Kershaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Crooked Eye,
The Skatalites,
Little Man,
The Smoke,
Charles Mingus,
The Velvet Underground,
Inner City,
Model 500,
Basic Channel,
Desert Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Neu!,
E-Dancer,
Cluster,
Amon Düül,
Mark Hollis,
The New Christs,
The Trojans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dave Gahan,
MC5,
Matthew Bourne,
The Gories,
Todd Rundgren,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minny Pops,
New Order,
EPMD,
48th St. Collective,
Kurtis Blow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roxette,
Bad Manners,
Marine Girls,
Quando Quango,
Vainqueur,
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.