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 Lithuania and from Portland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Bill Wells to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Buzzcocks,
Crime,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Modern Lovers,
Shoche,
Skarface,
Juan Atkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Blackbyrds,
Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pere Ubu,
Procol Harum,
D'Angelo,
UT,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Y Pants,
Suburban Knight,
Camouflage,
Zapp,
Severed Heads,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Iggy Pop,
Bad Manners,
Thee Headcoats,
Brand Nubian,
Fear,
The Invisible,
Television,
The Evens,
Funkadelic,
Monolake,
The Durutti Column,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
Mad Mike,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
The Wake,
Matthew Halsall,
Sixth Finger,
cv313,
Warren Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
Aaron Thompson,
Marmalade,
Donald Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Interpol,
Joyce Sims,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.