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 Sudan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Masters at Work to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
Wasted Youth,
Los Fastidios,
Stereo Dub,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Iggy Pop,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Bananas,
Supertramp,
The Motions,
Young Marble Giants,
Scientists,
Tubeway Army,
Dennis Brown,
Arcadia,
The Grass Roots,
Swell Maps,
Carl Craig,
Public Enemy,
Chris & Cosey,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy Collins,
Nas,
Nico,
Spoonie Gee,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Flag,
Guru Guru,
The Sound,
Bush Tetras,
The Electric Prunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Junior Murvin,
Ultra Naté,
U.S. Maple,
Yazoo,
Slave,
The Mighty Diamonds,
L. Decosne,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Reagan Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Marvin Gaye,
Dead Boys,
Tomorrow,
The Index,
The Angels of Light,
Brass Construction,
the Slits,
In Retrospect,
The Pop Group,
Minny Pops,
the Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Y Pants,
Second Layer,
DNA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.