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 East Timor and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Minor Threat to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron 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 snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Freddie Wadling,
The Misunderstood,
Das Ding,
Underground Resistance,
Desert Stars,
Bootsy Collins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marvin Gaye,
Nas,
Country Teasers,
Wire,
June of 44,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
Aural Exciters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Swans,
Television Personalities,
10cc,
Spandau Ballet,
Junior Murvin,
Eric Dolphy,
The Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dual Sessions,
E-Dancer,
Magma,
Wally Richardson,
The Buckinghams,
Jeru the Damaja,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Howard Jones,
The Associates,
Rekid,
Ronan,
K-Klass,
Scott Walker,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Evens,
Black Moon,
The Golliwogs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Crooked Eye,
Second Layer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
cv313,
Dave Gahan,
The Busters,
China Crisis,
Television,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Groovy Waters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Henry Cow,
the Germs,
DNA,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Gichy Dan,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.