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 Laos and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Howard Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Peter and Kerry,
Joe Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Albert Ayler,
Piero Umiliani,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young,
The Kinks,
Absolute Body Control,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gong,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Swell Maps,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jawbox,
Ronan,
ABBA,
Rod Modell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Derrick May,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Bananas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Chrome,
Eric B and Rakim,
Outsiders,
The Doors,
Wally Richardson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eddi Front,
Marine Girls,
Duran Duran,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amon Düül II,
Organ,
Scratch Acid,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
DNA,
E-Dancer,
Masters at Work,
the Soft Cell,
Slick Rick,
Joensuu 1685,
Todd Rundgren,
Scrapy,
Flipper,
The Five Americans,
Lalann,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Buzzcocks,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.