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 Spain and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Alphaville to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum 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 clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Half Japanese,
X-102,
Cheater Slicks,
This Heat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dave Clark Five,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Toni Rubio,
the Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
China Crisis,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Scratch Acid,
Laurel Aitken,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Arcadia,
Eurythmics,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Young Marble Giants,
Peter and Kerry,
Inner City,
Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Lower 48,
Desert Stars,
Fela Kuti,
Oblivians,
Junior Murvin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hashim,
Faust,
Massinfluence,
Curtis Mayfield,
La Düsseldorf,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scan 7,
Warren Ellis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Knickerbockers,
Donny Hathaway,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minny Pops,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Five Americans,
Silicon Teens,
Au Pairs,
The Skatalites,
Prince Buster,
Radiohead,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Max Romeo,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.