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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eric Copeland to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar 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 oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Buzzcocks,
Unwound,
Scan 7,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Stooges,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aaron Thompson,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Dolphy,
New York Dolls,
The Dead C,
Delta 5,
David Axelrod,
Monolake,
Thompson Twins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Todd Rundgren,
Wolf Eyes,
Skaos,
The Evens,
Eric Copeland,
T. Rex,
Pole,
The Real Kids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Monks,
Funkadelic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bob Dylan,
Black Pus,
Andrew Hill,
Barrington Levy,
Section 25,
Lucky Dragons,
The Gories,
Dead Boys,
Y Pants,
Crash Course in Science,
Slick Rick,
Moss Icon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roger Hodgson,
The Raincoats,
The Victims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Sherman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pagans,
Swell Maps,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Neon Judgement,
Ponytail,
The Busters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Seeds,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.