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 Denmark and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the grime 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
UT,
Bob Dylan,
Charles Mingus,
Sällskapet,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Index,
John Holt,
Pole,
Maleditus Sound,
Harry Pussy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Golliwogs,
Connie Case,
Crispian St. Peters,
Depeche Mode,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Sneak,
Zero Boys,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Infiniti,
Bootsy Collins,
the Slits,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Magma,
The Toasters,
Steve Hackett,
Sun City Girls,
Inner City,
Q and Not U,
Visage,
Toni Rubio,
Organ,
Juan Atkins,
Ponytail,
Blancmange,
Nas,
The Stooges,
10cc,
Joe Smooth,
Y Pants,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
Camberwell Now,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
Joy Division,
Nirvana,
Cameo,
a-ha,
Minny Pops,
The Divine Comedy,
Crash Course in Science,
The Durutti Column,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.