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 Argentina and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the electroclash 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gun Club,
Bad Manners,
Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Popol Vuh,
One Last Wish,
Aswad,
Tommy Roe,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pantaleimon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mantronix,
Donny Hathaway,
Neu!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Josef K,
Brand Nubian,
Ice-T,
Monolake,
Joy Division,
The Standells,
T. Rex,
Pole,
Jacques Brel,
Peter and Kerry,
Wolf Eyes,
T.S.O.L.,
Television,
Lightning Bolt,
Rod Modell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Rites of Spring,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Japan,
Marmalade,
the Sonics,
Kaleidoscope,
The Buckinghams,
Nirvana,
Lou Reed,
The Sonics,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Toni Rubio,
Robert Wyatt,
Sixth Finger,
Rotary Connection,
The Fuzztones,
The Dirtbombs,
Duran Duran,
Suburban Knight,
Hot Snakes,
Janne Schatter,
Althea and Donna,
Johnny Clarke,
Joe Finger,
Q and Not U,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.