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 Libya and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Jacques Brel,
Anthony Braxton,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Guru Guru,
Gang Gang Dance,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Steve Hackett,
Deakin,
La Düsseldorf,
The Motions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Connie Case,
Mr. Review,
Warsaw,
Hasil Adkins,
Bill Near,
a-ha,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dawn Penn,
Arthur Verocai,
Urselle,
Soul II Soul,
EPMD,
Maurizio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fad Gadget,
Agitation Free,
Bronski Beat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Intrusion,
Brick,
Radio Birdman,
The Techniques,
Sister Nancy,
Angry Samoans,
Jesper Dahlback,
KRS-One,
X-102,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pantytec,
X-101,
Mars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slackers,
The Mummies,
Magazine,
Barbara Tucker,
The Stooges,
Ultravox,
The Divine Comedy,
Vainqueur,
The Grass Roots,
Gichy Dan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Second Layer,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.