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 Thailand and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 the Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
Agent Orange,
Graham Central Station,
Magma,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Schoolly D,
John Holt,
The Monks,
These Immortal Souls,
Wire,
Stiv Bators,
Black Sheep,
Con Funk Shun,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Soft Cell,
Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Zero Boys,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott Heron,
Buzzcocks,
Blancmange,
Tubeway Army,
Subhumans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
Crooked Eye,
The Misunderstood,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fall,
Swans,
Deadbeat,
Kayak,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Slackers,
Shoche,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül,
Crime,
Juan Atkins,
Barbara Tucker,
Pagans,
The Beau Brummels,
Banda Bassotti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Curtis Mayfield,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dirtbombs,
Prince Buster,
Absolute Body Control,
Ponytail,
Alice Coltrane,
The J.B.'s,
Motorama,
Faraquet,
Warren Ellis,
Tim Buckley,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.