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 Iran and from Milan.
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 Woodstock and Manchester.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Toni Rubio to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
The Associates,
MC5,
Morten Harket,
Eden Ahbez,
The Pop Group,
The American Breed,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
U.S. Maple,
Stockholm Monsters,
Index,
Lower 48,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Christie,
B.T. Express,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radio Birdman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wings,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Young Rascals,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sparks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Essential Logic,
Heaven 17,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
The Grass Roots,
Gichy Dan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Parry Music,
Spandau Ballet,
Flipper,
Youth Brigade,
Tears for Fears,
Eric Copeland,
Icehouse,
Maurizio,
The Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crime,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
The United States of America,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jandek,
Vainqueur,
Hot Snakes,
Delta 5,
Accadde A,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultravox,
The Monks,
Neil Young,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.