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 South Africa and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Absolute Body Control to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ 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 clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Sheep,
Glenn Branca,
Little Man,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
The Victims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Delta 5,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!,
Accadde A,
Sam Rivers,
Faust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Mills,
Marc Almond,
Oneida,
Stereo Dub,
Anthony Braxton,
Maurizio,
Lower 48,
The Buckinghams,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Organ,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
CMW,
Robert Görl,
Neu!,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
Monolake,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sonny Sharrock,
Delon & Dalcan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dennis Brown,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blake Baxter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yaz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
Severed Heads,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Iggy Pop,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
World's Most,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Names,
Lou Reed,
Hardrive,
Groovy Waters,
Brass Construction,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.