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 Ukraine and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Martian to the jazz 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Mars,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lindisfarne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eddi Front,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
Whodini,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eric Dolphy,
Spoonie Gee,
Interpol,
Inner City,
The Leaves,
The Smoke,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Hood,
The Remains,
Neil Young,
Gang Gang Dance,
Darondo,
Blossom Toes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Accadde A,
Hoover,
Little Man,
Amazonics,
The Five Americans,
Ponytail,
Bobby Sherman,
Prince Buster,
The Wake,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Amon Düül,
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Near,
Surgeon,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gun Club,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Desert Stars,
Basic Channel,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Sneak,
Suicide,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Technova,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Lynne,
The Victims,
Faraquet,
Subhumans,
Matthew Halsall,
Pussy Galore,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Neon Judgement,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.