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 Belarus and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Silicon Teens to the crunk 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
The Mojo Men,
Jacob Miller,
Siglo XX,
The Five Americans,
Kurtis Blow,
Slick Rick,
Slave,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chrome,
Excepter,
Roxy Music,
New York Dolls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Das Ding,
Barbara Tucker,
The Neon Judgement,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Walker Brothers,
The Smiths,
Nirvana,
Tears for Fears,
Stetsasonic,
Jandek,
Yellowson,
The Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Skarface,
The Remains,
World's Most,
Dave Gahan,
Henry Cow,
Althea and Donna,
Quando Quango,
Anthony Braxton,
Guru Guru,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Association,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lower 48,
Terrestrial Tones,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter & Gordon,
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
Skriet,
Nas,
Easy Going,
Aural Exciters,
Trumans Water,
Boz Scaggs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Shoche,
The Busters,
Judy Mowatt,
Tres Demented,
Man Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Groovy Waters,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.