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 Sri Lanka and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Barracudas to the techno 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Walker Brothers,
Harmonia,
Mantronix,
Pole,
Pere Ubu,
Eddi Front,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Warsaw,
Laurel Aitken,
Angry Samoans,
Crime,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Spandau Ballet,
Graham Central Station,
The Toasters,
Moss Icon,
John Cale,
Outsiders,
The Human League,
E-Dancer,
Blancmange,
Bobby Sherman,
La Düsseldorf,
Panda Bear,
Zapp,
Subhumans,
Bill Near,
Sonic Youth,
The Angels of Light,
The Smiths,
the Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
June Days,
Robert Görl,
Deepchord,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Happenings,
Marine Girls,
Stiv Bators,
The Moleskins,
EPMD,
Technova,
Arcadia,
Gang Starr,
World's Most,
Joensuu 1685,
Marc Almond,
AZ,
KRS-One,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hoover,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
China Crisis,
Essential Logic,
MC5,
R.M.O.,
Babytalk,
The Techniques,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.