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 Uganda and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Lee Hazlewood to the crunk 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suicide,
Quantec,
Banda Bassotti,
Smog,
H. Thieme,
Fugazi,
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
The Modern Lovers,
Newcleus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Mars,
Fat Boys,
Eurythmics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Saccharine Trust,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Masters at Work,
Janne Schatter,
Harry Pussy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Derrick May,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
The Stooges,
Joyce Sims,
The Tremeloes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Siglo XX,
Supertramp,
Hot Snakes,
Scrapy,
Bob Dylan,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
Lucky Dragons,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kool Moe Dee,
Patti Smith,
Monolake,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
The Searchers,
X-Ray Spex,
Marshall Jefferson,
Zero Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
ABBA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reuben Wilson,
Alphaville,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.