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 Chile and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Delon & Dalcan to the crunk 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
Organ,
the Slits,
Blancmange,
A Certain Ratio,
Excepter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Lightning Bolt,
The Pretty Things,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Subhumans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
AZ,
Jerry's Kids,
Black Moon,
Prince Buster,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fire Engines,
Hot Snakes,
JFA,
Alphaville,
B.T. Express,
The Kinks,
The Moleskins,
Goldenarms,
Khruangbin,
Peter & Gordon,
Moss Icon,
Radiohead,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
Eddi Front,
Pantaleimon,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Gong,
Moby Grape,
Bill Wells,
Circle Jerks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Reed,
Lebanon Hanover,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Clarke,
The Angels of Light,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Livin' Joy,
Sparks,
Newcleus,
La Düsseldorf,
Depeche Mode,
The Toasters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Sound,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.