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 Liechtenstein 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
T.S.O.L.,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dead C,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aaron Thompson,
Fat Boys,
Index,
Sam Rivers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nik Kershaw,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Black Dice,
Donald Byrd,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Litter,
The Moleskins,
Newcleus,
Loose Ends,
The Modern Lovers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Camouflage,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sarah Menescal,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fortunes,
Funky Four + One,
The Sound,
Ossler,
Cameo,
The Saints,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slick Rick,
Ronan,
The Monochrome Set,
Desert Stars,
The Misunderstood,
Todd Rundgren,
Nick Fraelich,
The Searchers,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
DNA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.