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 Cambodia 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Flash Fearless to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Shoche,
Laurel Aitken,
Scott Walker,
Skriet,
Sun Ra,
Scientists,
Darondo,
The Last Poets,
Quadrant,
Malaria!,
Main Source,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Avey Tare,
The Gories,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Morten Harket,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bootsy Collins,
Amazonics,
Pagans,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Selecter,
Skaos,
DJ Sneak,
Schoolly D,
Y Pants,
Joyce Sims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Patti Smith,
Drexciya,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Hill,
Funky Four + One,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
Tim Buckley,
Chris & Cosey,
Aswad,
Infiniti,
Delta 5,
Zapp,
The Smiths,
The Monochrome Set,
Roy Ayers,
Unrelated Segments,
Echospace,
Dead Boys,
Desert Stars,
The Victims,
John Holt,
David Axelrod,
Cabaret Voltaire,
H. Thieme,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.