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 South Sudan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar 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 Quando Quango to the jazz 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Searchers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Second Layer,
K-Klass,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sister Nancy,
Pierre Henry,
Grey Daturas,
David McCallum,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jacob Miller,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Germs,
Jerry's Kids,
The Happenings,
Tom Boy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
FM Einheit,
Tomorrow,
The Names,
Ronnie Foster,
Bobby Womack,
Inner City,
Severed Heads,
Rotary Connection,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
Animal Collective,
Peter & Gordon,
New York Dolls,
Quadrant,
Janne Schatter,
Toni Rubio,
PIL,
Desert Stars,
Subhumans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Das Ding,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sound Behaviour,
L. Decosne,
Lucky Dragons,
CMW,
Junior Murvin,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sarah Menescal,
Absolute Body Control,
Sällskapet,
The United States of America,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dead C,
Shoche,
Reuben Wilson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.