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 Yemen and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marine Girls to the punk 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
Chris & Cosey,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mummies,
Peter and Kerry,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Fat Boys,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fall,
Andrew Hill,
Joe Finger,
Metal Thangz,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Cale,
Darondo,
Newcleus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mandrill,
Television,
The Move,
Ice-T,
Jeff Lynne,
Drexciya,
Sam Rivers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Zapp,
E-Dancer,
Tommy Roe,
Rotary Connection,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cure,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pere Ubu,
Section 25,
Rapeman,
Grauzone,
Quando Quango,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Chrome,
Kayak,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
Average White Band,
Brass Construction,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.