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 Bulgaria and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Glenn Branca to the funk 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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers,
Cal Tjader,
Pole,
Second Layer,
X-Ray Spex,
Barry Ungar,
Infiniti,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Flipper,
Young Marble Giants,
Wally Richardson,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Shuggie Otis,
Silicon Teens,
Urselle,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
Darondo,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Kenny Larkin,
Cecil Taylor,
Blake Baxter,
June Days,
Ossler,
The Moleskins,
Zapp,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
the Swans,
Bob Dylan,
Boz Scaggs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kerrie Biddell,
Moebius,
Suicide,
Vladislav Delay,
Kaleidoscope,
Roxette,
the Bar-Kays,
Ludus,
Reagan Youth,
Harmonia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
Todd Terry,
Dual Sessions,
B.T. Express,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Unwound,
Swans,
the Association,
Fear,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fugs,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.