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 Ivory Coast and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Rapeman to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 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,
Country Teasers,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Beau Brummels,
Rekid,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Scientists,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül,
Arcadia,
Quantec,
The Blues Magoos,
The Doobie Brothers,
Desert Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
Talk Talk,
The Gap Band,
Tommy Roe,
Patti Smith,
Visage,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Joey Negro,
The Dirtbombs,
Skarface,
B.T. Express,
Au Pairs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Los Fastidios,
10cc,
China Crisis,
Circle Jerks,
AZ,
Zapp,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Agitation Free,
Minny Pops,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moody Blues,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson,
The Velvet Underground,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Names,
Big Daddy Kane,
Thee Headcoats,
Prince Buster,
Kaleidoscope,
Alison Limerick,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swell Maps,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Sheep,
Kayak,
Crooked Eye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fat Boys,
Animal Collective,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.