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 Belgium and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Alarm Clocks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Man Eating Sloth,
48th St. Collective,
Shuggie Otis,
Camouflage,
Bad Manners,
JFA,
Dawn Penn,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fuzztones,
Pet Shop Boys,
B.T. Express,
The Angels of Light,
The Count Five,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Busters,
Visage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Silicon Teens,
Bush Tetras,
Rotary Connection,
The Remains,
PIL,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ten City,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crooked Eye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Hardrive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
China Crisis,
Brothers Johnson,
Second Layer,
Archie Shepp,
Lindisfarne,
the Fania All-Stars,
Robert Görl,
Kevin Saunderson,
Babytalk,
Buzzcocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vladislav Delay,
Bauhaus,
Main Source,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.