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 Korea North 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Music Machine,
Eric Copeland,
The Vogues,
The Young Rascals,
Wally Richardson,
Harry Pussy,
Scratch Acid,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Simply Red,
Gong,
The Gap Band,
Joey Negro,
Bobby Womack,
Pulsallama,
The Toasters,
Lindisfarne,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Grey Daturas,
Lakeside,
Neu!,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marc Almond,
Johnny Clarke,
The Saints,
Japan,
Marvin Gaye,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ten City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
Spoonie Gee,
Yaz,
Bob Dylan,
John Lydon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Wyatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pantytec,
Skarface,
Nirvana,
June of 44,
The Monks,
DJ Style,
Bizarre Inc.,
This Heat,
cv313,
Blossom Toes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Anthony Braxton,
Nas,
Sister Nancy,
Bill Wells,
Sam Rivers,
The Standells,
Ituana,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.