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 Botswana and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Moleskins to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
John Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Music Machine,
Ludus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joey Negro,
48th St. Collective,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minnie Riperton,
Surgeon,
The Seeds,
Dawn Penn,
Quadrant,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
Thompson Twins,
The United States of America,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Babytalk,
Wire,
The Monochrome Set,
The Busters,
Amon Düül,
Robert Wyatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Judy Mowatt,
Brass Construction,
Tomorrow,
Average White Band,
Pussy Galore,
Michelle Simonal,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fatback Band,
Technova,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yellowson,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
R.M.O.,
the Germs,
Soulsonic Force,
Bauhaus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Wells,
CMW,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Icehouse,
Porter Ricks,
Panda Bear,
Stockholm Monsters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Interpol,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.