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 Vietnam and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 These Immortal Souls to the grunge 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Faust,
Jawbox,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Busters,
Eric Dolphy,
Tears for Fears,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
John Holt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minutemen,
Second Layer,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
The Dirtbombs,
Hoover,
Blossom Toes,
Harpers Bizarre,
kango's stein massive,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Model 500,
The Toasters,
Arab on Radar,
the Slits,
The Martian,
World's Most,
Agitation Free,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
the Normal,
X-101,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smiths,
Black Flag,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Man Parrish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ultra Naté,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kurtis Blow,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Erasure,
Slave,
John Foxx,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
New York Dolls,
Intrusion,
The Index,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
Howard Jones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.