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 Slovakia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Outsiders to the punk 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet 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 spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Slick Rick,
Altered Images,
Man Parrish,
The Fuzztones,
Crash Course in Science,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Reed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
Mark Hollis,
New Age Steppers,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Sällskapet,
John Holt,
Moby Grape,
The New Christs,
the Swans,
Don Cherry,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
Von Mondo,
Average White Band,
Tom Boy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Black Pus,
Neu!,
The Fire Engines,
Skriet,
Blake Baxter,
June of 44,
Unrelated Segments,
Minor Threat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oblivians,
Visage,
Hoover,
Ten City,
Grey Daturas,
Black Bananas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cybotron,
Ultravox,
Index,
The Mummies,
Wings,
Tomorrow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Whodini,
Eric Dolphy,
Brick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül II,
Bauhaus,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.