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 Panama and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Donald Fagen 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 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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Crime,
Guru Guru,
The Smoke,
Fear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
the Bar-Kays,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
Soul II Soul,
The Grass Roots,
The Last Poets,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Los Fastidios,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alphaville,
Warren Ellis,
The Saints,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rakim,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
Grey Daturas,
Laurel Aitken,
Toni Rubio,
Newcleus,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cure,
The Kinks,
The Angels of Light,
Gong,
Interpol,
Aswad,
New York Dolls,
David McCallum,
The Walker Brothers,
Arab on Radar,
B.T. Express,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
T.S.O.L.,
Dead Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tommy Roe,
Bobby Sherman,
Eve St. Jones,
Rod Modell,
The Pop Group,
Yusef Lateef,
Connie Case,
Sight & Sound,
the Association,
Buzzcocks,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
The Durutti Column,
Harmonia,
U.S. Maple,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.