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 New Zealand and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Mr. Review 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Last Poets,
Vainqueur,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kaleidoscope,
Hardrive,
Unrelated Segments,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
Althea and Donna,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Enemy,
LL Cool J,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Marmalade,
Excepter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Kinks,
The Golliwogs,
Lungfish,
The Dirtbombs,
The Motions,
Minor Threat,
the Soft Cell,
Bobby Sherman,
Y Pants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cybotron,
Dawn Penn,
Anakelly,
The Mummies,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
June Days,
Urselle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
These Immortal Souls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Little Man,
The Leaves,
Josef K,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Pus,
48th St. Collective,
Black Flag,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Babytalk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bauhaus,
Delta 5,
The Slackers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Index,
Niagra,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.