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 Laos and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar 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 Pussy Galore to the jazz 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Icehouse,
Rekid,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scratch Acid,
The Knickerbockers,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crash Course in Science,
Whodini,
Magazine,
The Modern Lovers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zero Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Isaac Hayes,
Grauzone,
Simply Red,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fear,
The Black Dice,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joe Smooth,
The Fall,
Glenn Branca,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pussy Galore,
Amazonics,
Ronan,
Suicide,
Jacques Brel,
Al Stewart,
The Offenders,
Johnny Clarke,
World's Most,
Crime,
Chris & Cosey,
B.T. Express,
Theoretical Girls,
The Divine Comedy,
Stereo Dub,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liliput,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Newcleus,
Massinfluence,
June Days,
Eden Ahbez,
The Kinks,
The Vogues,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Godley & Creme,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.