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 Mozambique and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Boz Scaggs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Smiths,
Severed Heads,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultra Naté,
The Cure,
Jeff Mills,
PIL,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Amazonics,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wire,
The Leaves,
Second Layer,
Magma,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gichy Dan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Pantaleimon,
Young Marble Giants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
The Happenings,
the Fania All-Stars,
Loose Ends,
The Cowsills,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scratch Acid,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lakeside,
Pussy Galore,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dual Sessions,
These Immortal Souls,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Association,
Franke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ken Boothe,
Hashim,
Guru Guru,
EPMD,
June of 44,
kango's stein massive,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Oblivians,
Niagra,
Jeff Lynne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra,
Zero Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.