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 Vietnam and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 synthesizer 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 Alison Limerick to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin 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 spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Pylon,
The Durutti Column,
Tom Boy,
June Days,
a-ha,
Flash Fearless,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Almond,
The Litter,
the Bar-Kays,
Bush Tetras,
Erykah Badu,
Robert Wyatt,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Prince Buster,
The Moody Blues,
Lungfish,
Laurel Aitken,
Eddi Front,
Surgeon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brand Nubian,
Cal Tjader,
David Axelrod,
The Gap Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Spoonie Gee,
Nico,
Delon & Dalcan,
Faraquet,
Magazine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Idris Muhammad,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Divine Comedy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pulsallama,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
R.M.O.,
La Düsseldorf,
Agitation Free,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bobby Sherman,
K-Klass,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Delta 5,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare,
The Fuzztones,
The Doors,
The Fire Engines,
OOIOO,
The Mummies,
Pantaleimon,
Hoover,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.