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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 Yaz to the funk 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro 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 synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Buzzcocks,
Visage,
Jerry's Kids,
The Golliwogs,
Sex Pistols,
Hardrive,
Lou Christie,
Cluster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slick Rick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Easy Going,
Tres Demented,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Blake Baxter,
Nas,
Young Marble Giants,
Soft Machine,
Pantytec,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Amazonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minnie Riperton,
Rekid,
The Buckinghams,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
B.T. Express,
Eric Copeland,
Essential Logic,
Animal Collective,
Black Pus,
Dead Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Matthew Bourne,
Spoonie Gee,
Talk Talk,
The Gap Band,
Thompson Twins,
Oneida,
The Barracudas,
The Names,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
L. Decosne,
The Smoke,
Absolute Body Control,
Brothers Johnson,
Television Personalities,
Johnny Clarke,
Outsiders,
Chris & Cosey,
DNA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.