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 Turkmenistan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mars to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Essential Logic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Andrew Hill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Wake,
The Star Department,
Organ,
The New Christs,
Lungfish,
The Raincoats,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yaz,
The Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
OOIOO,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sam Rivers,
Dawn Penn,
The Flesh Eaters,
UT,
Susan Cadogan,
Josef K,
Hoover,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crash Course in Science,
Matthew Halsall,
Funkadelic,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Trojans,
Sandy B,
Fugazi,
Sexual Harrassment,
Procol Harum,
Zero Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joyce Sims,
Malaria!,
Sarah Menescal,
Todd Rundgren,
CMW,
Wolf Eyes,
X-101,
Pere Ubu,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
Barry Ungar,
Severed Heads,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man,
Rosa Yemen,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.