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 Uruguay and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
The Monks,
Rakim,
Soft Machine,
Gang Green,
Black Moon,
Magazine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blackbyrds,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Gap Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Camberwell Now,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
Derrick Morgan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scratch Acid,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dual Sessions,
Second Layer,
Black Pus,
Cluster,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Faust,
Rosa Yemen,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Almond,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-Ray Spex,
The J.B.'s,
Deakin,
Harmonia,
The Leaves,
The Dirtbombs,
Bauhaus,
Rotary Connection,
Lou Christie,
Bush Tetras,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
Marcia Griffiths,
China Crisis,
the Sonics,
Robert Görl,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funky Four + One,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blancmange,
Television,
Little Man,
Bill Wells,
The Tremeloes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Todd Rundgren,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.