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 Burkina and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scientists to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-101,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mr. Review,
Gong,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultravox,
Max Romeo,
June of 44,
Nirvana,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monks,
Interpol,
Unrelated Segments,
the Slits,
Nas,
Steve Hackett,
New Order,
Rapeman,
CMW,
Rotary Connection,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Can,
Terry Callier,
Eric Dolphy,
Kayak,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Dual Sessions,
Banda Bassotti,
Arab on Radar,
Vainqueur,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Gap Band,
The Move,
The J.B.'s,
The Golliwogs,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Barracudas,
Skriet,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry's Kids,
Bad Manners,
The Seeds,
Moss Icon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faust,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flash Fearless,
Liliput,
8 Eyed Spy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.