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 France and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sister Nancy to the techno 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Unrelated Segments,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
FM Einheit,
Pole,
Faust,
the Human League,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Carl Craig,
Franke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
A Certain Ratio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Average White Band,
Bluetip,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
Deakin,
The Move,
U.S. Maple,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alison Limerick,
Wasted Youth,
Unwound,
The Trojans,
The Blackbyrds,
Jerry's Kids,
Cheater Slicks,
Desert Stars,
Eddi Front,
Swell Maps,
Rites of Spring,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Maleditus Sound,
Marmalade,
DNA,
The Star Department,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tomorrow,
June Days,
T. Rex,
Interpol,
Black Bananas,
Rotary Connection,
Fluxion,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Saints,
Scan 7,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.