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 Vietnam and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
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 snare 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 Ken Boothe 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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Durutti Column,
ABBA,
Slick Rick,
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
Depeche Mode,
Thee Headcoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radiohead,
Juan Atkins,
Wolf Eyes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sixth Finger,
The Invisible,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick May,
David Bowie,
Nick Fraelich,
The Kinks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stereo Dub,
Unrelated Segments,
Smog,
The Mojo Men,
Cybotron,
The Divine Comedy,
David Axelrod,
Section 25,
Popol Vuh,
The Barracudas,
X-102,
Hoover,
Guru Guru,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marine Girls,
Tom Boy,
The Monks,
Arab on Radar,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Swans,
The Toasters,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Association,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marc Almond,
Porter Ricks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roy Ayers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Qualms,
Y Pants,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.