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 South Africa and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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,
The Gun Club,
Eurythmics,
Jawbox,
Country Teasers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mojo Men,
Bob Dylan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dennis Brown,
The Standells,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Severed Heads,
Lalann,
Jerry's Kids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Basic Channel,
Erasure,
Dawn Penn,
The Fugs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Mandrill,
The Doobie Brothers,
Q and Not U,
Mark Hollis,
Moby Grape,
Tommy Roe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Clear Light,
B.T. Express,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Negative Approach,
Smog,
MDC,
Hashim,
Godley & Creme,
Cluster,
Faust,
A Certain Ratio,
China Crisis,
The Searchers,
Gang Green,
Minor Threat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Simply Red,
Television Personalities,
Curtis Mayfield,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
Buzzcocks,
the Swans,
Swans,
Zapp,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
Shoche,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.