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 Lebanon and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Yellowson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deakin,
Guru Guru,
Fugazi,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eric Dolphy,
Silicon Teens,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yusef Lateef,
These Immortal Souls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jacques Brel,
Von Mondo,
The Gladiators,
Max Romeo,
The Zeros,
The Walker Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Offenders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
World's Most,
Nico,
Ken Boothe,
Lucky Dragons,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Grey Daturas,
Massinfluence,
the Swans,
The Slits,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Archie Shepp,
Agent Orange,
Au Pairs,
Quantec,
Gregory Isaacs,
Television,
John Coltrane,
Iggy Pop,
Isaac Hayes,
The Monks,
Hoover,
Angry Samoans,
China Crisis,
Bill Wells,
Oneida,
Lou Christie,
The Kinks,
Kerri Chandler,
Sarah Menescal,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Saccharine Trust,
Kool Moe Dee,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.