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 Belarus and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Duran Duran to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Make Up,
Bobby Womack,
Camberwell Now,
Derrick May,
A Certain Ratio,
Prince Buster,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rekid,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gap Band,
Dawn Penn,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cure,
The Victims,
Grauzone,
Mad Mike,
Wolf Eyes,
The Kinks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Banda Bassotti,
Quadrant,
Brick,
The Evens,
Amazonics,
Eli Mardock,
Ituana,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scott Walker,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Gang of Four,
Faust,
Angry Samoans,
Chris & Cosey,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ronan,
Anakelly,
Nico,
The Doobie Brothers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tom Boy,
Gabor Szabo,
Camouflage,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Christie,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Trojans,
The Last Poets,
The Human League,
Popol Vuh,
Pharoah Sanders,
Erasure,
Absolute Body Control,
Joyce Sims,
Flipper,
Marc Almond,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.