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 Luxembourg and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Radiopuhelimet to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Yaz,
OOIOO,
Gong,
The Sound,
Cecil Taylor,
Organ,
Thee Headcoats,
Arab on Radar,
H. Thieme,
Simply Red,
Gang of Four,
Yusef Lateef,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Traffic Nightmare,
X-101,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wally Richardson,
Stereo Dub,
Matthew Bourne,
DJ Style,
The Flesh Eaters,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gladiators,
Newcleus,
The Cramps,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Underground Resistance,
New Age Steppers,
Cheater Slicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DNA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Bananas,
The Slackers,
Davy DMX,
The Blues Magoos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suburban Knight,
The Human League,
Gastr Del Sol,
Harmonia,
Can,
The Modern Lovers,
Derrick May,
June of 44,
Scott Walker,
Bang On A Can,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kayak,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Maurizio,
The Stooges,
Lalo Schifrin,
Unrelated Segments,
Jesper Dahlback,
Circle Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.