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 Mexico and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Agent Orange to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Terrestrial Tones. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
The Gun Club,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Searchers,
The Last Poets,
The Cramps,
A Certain Ratio,
Alphaville,
H. Thieme,
Nik Kershaw,
The Victims,
The Music Machine,
Monolake,
Intrusion,
Zapp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pagans,
The Mojo Men,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
Joe Smooth,
Pylon,
AZ,
Whodini,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Normal,
Johnny Osbourne,
48th St. Collective,
Sight & Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sam Rivers,
Roy Ayers,
Nas,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tears for Fears,
Parry Music,
Mission of Burma,
Slave,
New York Dolls,
The Stooges,
The Trojans,
Fad Gadget,
DNA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Essential Logic,
L. Decosne,
Massinfluence,
Moebius,
Aloha Tigers,
Minny Pops,
Urselle,
Tom Boy,
Slick Rick,
Radiohead,
June Days,
Severed Heads,
Davy DMX,
EPMD,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.