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 Djibouti and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 harpsichord 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 FM Einheit to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Infiniti,
Parry Music,
Vladislav Delay,
Ralphi Rosario,
Donald Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Bauhaus,
Section 25,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Marvin Gaye,
Max Romeo,
Mad Mike,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ornette Coleman,
Little Man,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Fuzztones,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
The Music Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Pere Ubu,
Black Bananas,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Main Source,
Joe Smooth,
Sarah Menescal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mummies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Buzzcocks,
Mr. Review,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter,
The Monks,
Alphaville,
Soft Machine,
Black Moon,
Oblivians,
Man Parrish,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
Animal Collective,
Los Fastidios,
DNA,
Jawbox,
X-102,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Althea and Donna,
Boz Scaggs,
Piero Umiliani,
Index,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.