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 Tuvalu and from London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Jesper Dahlback to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
The Star Department,
Organ,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Los Fastidios,
Subhumans,
The Fall,
The Mummies,
The Divine Comedy,
Junior Murvin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Warren Ellis,
Bill Near,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Youth Brigade,
Rod Modell,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Bananas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Robert Görl,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Au Pairs,
Arthur Verocai,
Brothers Johnson,
Infiniti,
Jawbox,
The Names,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Buzzcocks,
Excepter,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
Cluster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
Bang On A Can,
Make Up,
Procol Harum,
Angry Samoans,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Steve Hackett,
Tommy Roe,
The Human League,
Jesper Dahlback,
Delta 5,
Rapeman,
The Sound,
The Fortunes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.