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 Uruguay and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Robert Hood to the rap 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a synthesizer 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 harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Marc Almond,
Urselle,
Juan Atkins,
The Mojo Men,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare,
Angry Samoans,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Moleskins,
The J.B.'s,
Deadbeat,
Fela Kuti,
Alton Ellis,
Shuggie Otis,
Shoche,
The Dead C,
Spandau Ballet,
Joyce Sims,
Moebius,
Archie Shepp,
The Tremeloes,
Derrick May,
Amon Düül II,
Q65,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scan 7,
Aaron Thompson,
Eden Ahbez,
Ossler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Organ,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
KRS-One,
Tubeway Army,
Warsaw,
The Slackers,
Sugar Minott,
Vainqueur,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Siglo XX,
New Order,
Steve Hackett,
Young Marble Giants,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
Mandrill,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Offenders,
48th St. Collective,
Kayak,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gang Gang Dance,
Stetsasonic,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.