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 Kiribati and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Taipei.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Frankie Knuckles to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Siglo XX,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mars,
ABC,
Avey Tare,
Aural Exciters,
Los Fastidios,
Harpers Bizarre,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crooked Eye,
Sixth Finger,
The Saints,
Tomorrow,
Scion,
Scratch Acid,
Soulsonic Force,
Rufus Thomas,
Reuben Wilson,
Khruangbin,
Tears for Fears,
The Real Kids,
Qualms,
Severed Heads,
Au Pairs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hot Snakes,
Bauhaus,
Minutemen,
Deadbeat,
The Sonics,
Suicide,
Organ,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mary Jane Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
The Martian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Ronnie Foster,
Youth Brigade,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
Nirvana,
T. Rex,
Pharoah Sanders,
Wasted Youth,
The Names,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Victims,
Ossler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harmonia,
Reagan Youth,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.