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 Angola and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Adolescents to the grime 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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
The Velvet Underground,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pylon,
DJ Sneak,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fugs,
Marmalade,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Icehouse,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Idris Muhammad,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cymande,
Marc Almond,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
The Barracudas,
Slave,
Delta 5,
Tres Demented,
Camberwell Now,
Kayak,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gabor Szabo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Adolescents,
The Blues Magoos,
Lalann,
Alphaville,
The Seeds,
Motorama,
Visage,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare,
The Dirtbombs,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moebius,
Pole,
Underground Resistance,
The Vogues,
Bobby Womack,
Cheater Slicks,
Janne Schatter,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kurtis Blow,
Ronan,
AZ,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers,
Infiniti,
MC5,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Negative Approach,
The Cure,
Desert Stars,
The Associates,
Mad Mike,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Byron Stingily,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.