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 Brazil and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Sugar Minott 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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a snare 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 arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Gories,
The Litter,
Circle Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Symarip,
Fear,
Lightning Bolt,
MDC,
Young Marble Giants,
DNA,
Main Source,
Average White Band,
The Slackers,
Joe Smooth,
Mission of Burma,
Robert Wyatt,
Yazoo,
Steve Hackett,
Gabor Szabo,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Neu!,
Porter Ricks,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Newcleus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
a-ha,
Yellowson,
Suicide,
The Index,
DJ Style,
Quadrant,
Jacques Brel,
Fad Gadget,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tim Buckley,
The Invisible,
Dave Gahan,
The Fuzztones,
Stetsasonic,
Drexciya,
Arab on Radar,
T.S.O.L.,
Robert Hood,
Laurel Aitken,
Quando Quango,
Siglo XX,
The Residents,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mr. Review,
Eve St. Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Velvet Underground,
Barclay James Harvest,
David Bowie,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Human League,
John Holt,
Talk Talk,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.