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 Turkey and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Nils Olav,
Q and Not U,
The Mojo Men,
Chris Corsano,
Gang Green,
Mark Hollis,
Radiohead,
Boz Scaggs,
The New Christs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rapeman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pylon,
Roy Ayers,
Slick Rick,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Steve Hackett,
Lucky Dragons,
U.S. Maple,
Alison Limerick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Todd Rundgren,
Easy Going,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Modern Lovers,
The Cowsills,
Magma,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lungfish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television Personalities,
Neil Young,
Bobby Womack,
Chris & Cosey,
Gang Starr,
Funkadelic,
Los Fastidios,
Kerri Chandler,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Golliwogs,
Japan,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Pus,
The Remains,
Scrapy,
Little Man,
Bizarre Inc.,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Alton Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.