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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Kerrie Biddell to the dance 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Minor Threat,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Suicide,
Grauzone,
The Fortunes,
The Cure,
Nas,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
The Victims,
ABC,
Carl Craig,
Zero Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Mo-Dettes,
Wolf Eyes,
Pole,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronnie Foster,
Tears for Fears,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bronski Beat,
Guru Guru,
Crime,
the Fania All-Stars,
Howard Jones,
Pylon,
Ultravox,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Görl,
Surgeon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Nation of Ulysses,
Patti Smith,
Yellowson,
Delta 5,
Piero Umiliani,
The Invisible,
Ohio Players,
the Normal,
Schoolly D,
Roger Hodgson,
Ornette Coleman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
These Immortal Souls,
Minnie Riperton,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
T. Rex,
Tim Buckley,
Chris & Cosey,
Peter & Gordon,
Cymande,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.