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 Jamaica and from Toronto.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Buzzcocks to the dance 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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
Amon Düül,
Monolake,
Mars,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Supertramp,
Joyce Sims,
These Immortal Souls,
Joensuu 1685,
Moss Icon,
Pierre Henry,
Blake Baxter,
Ultra Naté,
June Days,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pagans,
Barrington Levy,
Glenn Branca,
The Smoke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sugar Minott,
Wire,
Zero Boys,
The Human League,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
The Velvet Underground,
Eli Mardock,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Machine,
Rotary Connection,
Duran Duran,
David Axelrod,
The Star Department,
Junior Murvin,
Nick Fraelich,
Jawbox,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gories,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Man Parrish,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Reed,
Aswad,
Patti Smith,
Camouflage,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
Rufus Thomas,
Oneida,
ABC,
Magma,
Danielle Patucci,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Al Stewart,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Count Five,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.