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 Monaco and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Youth Brigade to the rock 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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bad Manners,
Rufus Thomas,
Index,
Godley & Creme,
Gang Green,
The Fuzztones,
AZ,
Sex Pistols,
Negative Approach,
Lightning Bolt,
One Last Wish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brothers Johnson,
Cluster,
Chrome,
Idris Muhammad,
Q65,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Parrish,
Hoover,
Sam Rivers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Vainqueur,
Niagra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Byron Stingily,
Nation of Ulysses,
Laurel Aitken,
L. Decosne,
Echospace,
Moebius,
Youth Brigade,
Make Up,
Jeff Lynne,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Techniques,
Grey Daturas,
Don Cherry,
Accadde A,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Thee Headcoats,
The Toasters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
Roxy Music,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Donald Byrd,
In Retrospect,
Wolf Eyes,
Rod Modell,
Buzzcocks,
Jimmy McGriff,
James White and The Blacks,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.