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 Jordan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Dead C to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Circle Jerks,
Buzzcocks,
Faust,
The Cure,
Max Romeo,
Little Man,
The Pop Group,
Spandau Ballet,
Althea and Donna,
F. McDonald,
The Vogues,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Drexciya,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Swell Maps,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Skarface,
The Move,
Lower 48,
Kool Moe Dee,
Von Mondo,
Popol Vuh,
The Index,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Crash Course in Science,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
Animal Collective,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Alphaville,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar,
Zapp,
the Association,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Invisible,
Soul II Soul,
Lalo Schifrin,
David McCallum,
Siglo XX,
David Axelrod,
Dual Sessions,
LL Cool J,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Ossler,
L. Decosne,
Jeff Mills,
Adolescents,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Birthday Party,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Altered Images,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slackers,
The Evens,
Deepchord,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.