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 South Africa and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Moebius,
Pet Shop Boys,
Prince Buster,
U.S. Maple,
The Wake,
Pantaleimon,
Public Enemy,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
One Last Wish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kenny Larkin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joe Smooth,
Magma,
Yusef Lateef,
Soft Machine,
Pere Ubu,
Joensuu 1685,
The Monochrome Set,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rapeman,
Spoonie Gee,
Deadbeat,
Drive Like Jehu,
MC5,
Lungfish,
Sparks,
Ultra Naté,
Flipper,
Swans,
Gong,
The Sonics,
Arthur Verocai,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Index,
the Normal,
Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
John Coltrane,
Jacques Brel,
The Star Department,
Lakeside,
Underground Resistance,
The Leaves,
Joyce Sims,
The Zeros,
Zero Boys,
Todd Terry,
the Germs,
Negative Approach,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
CMW,
The Sound,
Hardrive,
Max Romeo,
The Smiths,
Soulsonic Force,
Yellowson,
Eli Mardock,
Absolute Body Control,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Doors,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.