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 Kuwait and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 The Gun Club to the rap 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
New Order,
The Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gun Club,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Martian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABC,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker,
Simply Red,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Misunderstood,
The Selecter,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Porter Ricks,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Görl,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
MC5,
Roy Ayers,
Popol Vuh,
Henry Cow,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Arab on Radar,
Cheater Slicks,
Electric Prunes,
Rosa Yemen,
Fatback Band,
Rapeman,
Cameo,
The Searchers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Warsaw,
X-Ray Spex,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Inner City,
David Bowie,
Parry Music,
Easy Going,
The Durutti Column,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Wyatt,
The Birthday Party,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
The Saints,
The Doors,
Liliput,
Ten City,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Q and Not U,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.