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 Thailand and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neil Young to the funk 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
The Pretty Things,
The Star Department,
Desert Stars,
kango's stein massive,
Outsiders,
Theoretical Girls,
Boogie Down Productions,
Suicide,
Traffic Nightmare,
Absolute Body Control,
The Young Rascals,
June Days,
Bush Tetras,
Maurizio,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
Gichy Dan,
Tres Demented,
Zero Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Swans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names,
Masters at Work,
The Gories,
The Walker Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Iggy Pop,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Barry Ungar,
Scratch Acid,
John Lydon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Average White Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Derrick May,
Isaac Hayes,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DJ Sneak,
Kaleidoscope,
Fat Boys,
The Gladiators,
Camberwell Now,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Faraquet,
Spoonie Gee,
Eric B and Rakim,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Qualms,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kool Moe Dee,
The J.B.'s,
Jacob Miller,
Eurythmics,
The Music Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Juan Atkins,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.