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 Namibia and from Johannesburg.
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 Johannesburg and Toronto.
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 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 Deadbeat to the funk 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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Los Fastidios,
Darondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bang On A Can,
Faraquet,
Dead Boys,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Index,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Little Man,
The Trojans,
Magma,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
Moss Icon,
The Fall,
Kurtis Blow,
Mars,
Arab on Radar,
Crooked Eye,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Derrick Morgan,
Barrington Levy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
These Immortal Souls,
Electric Prunes,
Ronan,
Guru Guru,
The Evens,
MDC,
Freddie Wadling,
The Black Dice,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
Qualms,
Gang of Four,
New Age Steppers,
Leonard Cohen,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drexciya,
Colin Newman,
Tropical Tobacco,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantytec,
Aloha Tigers,
Neu!,
Matthew Bourne,
cv313,
Eli Mardock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.