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 Bulgaria and from London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Iggy Pop to the dance 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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Scan 7,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bill Near,
Bluetip,
The Raincoats,
Idris Muhammad,
Michelle Simonal,
Pylon,
Scott Walker,
Eve St. Jones,
The Litter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mars,
Eric Copeland,
Icehouse,
Sandy B,
Chris Corsano,
Adolescents,
Derrick May,
Soul Sonic Force,
Robert Görl,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Angels of Light,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Peter and Kerry,
Camouflage,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
UT,
Cymande,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swell Maps,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sugar Minott,
Connie Case,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stockholm Monsters,
Deakin,
The Dead C,
MC5,
the Human League,
Ronnie Foster,
Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Donald Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Mad Mike,
X-Ray Spex,
The Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Blancmange,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
L. Decosne,
Black Pus,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.