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 Georgia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Zeros,
Al Stewart,
Zero Boys,
The Move,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Normal,
Sparks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Althea and Donna,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Görl,
Underground Resistance,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moss Icon,
Glenn Branca,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jawbox,
Nick Fraelich,
Shuggie Otis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bill Wells,
The Toasters,
Black Flag,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
The Searchers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronan,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Susan Cadogan,
Hasil Adkins,
The J.B.'s,
Minor Threat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Charles Mingus,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dark Day,
Ultimate Spinach,
Radiohead,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mojo Men,
T.S.O.L.,
The Skatalites,
Can,
New Age Steppers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Excepter,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Bourne,
Kenny Larkin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Max Romeo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.