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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Moby Grape to the techno 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Brick,
Quadrant,
Jerry's Kids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Certain Ratio,
Camouflage,
Desert Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amazonics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Index,
Pere Ubu,
Thee Headcoats,
Scrapy,
Little Man,
The Gap Band,
Hot Snakes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Angry Samoans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Janne Schatter,
The Evens,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiohead,
Suicide,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Moody Blues,
Country Teasers,
Malaria!,
Average White Band,
Fear,
The Dead C,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sight & Sound,
Urselle,
Sparks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joe Finger,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
The Toasters,
Groovy Waters,
Swell Maps,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chrome,
Theoretical Girls,
Panda Bear,
Banda Bassotti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Bar-Kays,
Stereo Dub,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Yusef Lateef,
Sällskapet,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.