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 Grenada and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Scrapy to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sällskapet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hot Snakes,
Los Fastidios,
Vainqueur,
Pantytec,
Barrington Levy,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
Angry Samoans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kayak,
Grauzone,
Alphaville,
La Düsseldorf,
The Victims,
Rites of Spring,
Tommy Roe,
Zapp,
Unwound,
Jawbox,
Gabor Szabo,
Simply Red,
Dave Gahan,
Siglo XX,
Judy Mowatt,
Parry Music,
Make Up,
Buzzcocks,
Barry Ungar,
Maurizio,
D'Angelo,
Avey Tare,
Ken Boothe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Pop Group,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Icehouse,
Chris Corsano,
Second Layer,
Slick Rick,
Dead Boys,
Outsiders,
X-102,
Sister Nancy,
The Mojo Men,
Fat Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Star Department,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Average White Band,
The Five Americans,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
DJ Style,
The Techniques,
Lungfish,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.